


Losing The Fight

by SeverEstHolmes



Series: In the Shadows. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eating Disorders, HP: EWE, M/M, Male Slash, Post - Deathly Hallows, Self-Harm, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 27,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverEstHolmes/pseuds/SeverEstHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, life seems to be going just the way that Harry wants it to..normally. But then he catches Draco Malfoy in St. Mungos' and finds himself unusually drawn to the boy who was his enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll freely admit that this was my first HP fanfiction, therefore it is a little rough around the edges - I'll try and tidy it up as I post it on here.  
> Harry's POV.

The large red “Closed For Refurbishment” signs had faded from the sunlight that shone through the glass of the windows. The last time I had stood outside Purge & Dowse, LTD. was when Arthur Weasley had been attacked by the snake in my fifth year. Needless to say, the plastic dummy that stood behind the sheen of glass was still as ugly, its fake eyelashes still hanging off at strange angles. The last time I was here I had been terrified that Lord Voldemort was possessing me; I had felt unclean and unworthy… But that had been before the war…  
And now the war was over. More families had been torn asunder and far too many lives had been lost; but now, nearly four months after it had ended, the wizarding world was still rejoicing as the days of darkness seemed over.  
So here I stood talking quietly to the ugly dummy, unsurprisingly none of the shopping muggles noticed as I stepped through the glass into the busy, noisy reception of St. Mungo’s. The blonde receptionist was looking incredibly bored as she directed those standing in the queue to the appropriate floor level. I shifted from foot to foot as I stood in the queue; I could feel peoples’ stares on the back of my neck. My days as “The Chosen One” were over now that Voldemort was dead, but the Daily Prophet was hailing me as “The Saviour of Wizard kind”. This meant that even more people wanted to shake my hand, often offering words of thanks that now seemed a mere annoyance (having heard the same phrases repeated over and over).  
“I’m here to see Seamus Finnegan.” I said, placing my right arm on the reception desk and turned slightly to the left – I had just noticed a young girl tugging at her parents’ sleeve and pointing excitedly in my direction – as I watched the woman behind the desk flicked through the rolls of parchment, running a long, pink-talonned finger down the row of many names.  
“First floor, fifth door on the left.” She replied in a monotone, then she glanced up, I saw her eyes widen and I moved away quickly.  
As I counted the doors on the left side of the corridor I heard a familiar sounding voice drifting out of one of the wards; I couldn’t quite place it, but I definitely knew it from somewhere. I realised that my feet had stopped moving as I listened to the voice floating out of an unknown ward, I mentally shook myself and reminded myself that I was meant to be visiting Seamus. I had lost count of the doors so I spun round to count: one, two, three, four…so the next door on the left was Seamus’ ward. I psyched myself up and walked in.  
“Harry, mate! How are ya?” Seamus grinned as he spotted me walking in the doorway. I sat down in the armchair next to Seamus’ bed and watched him; he wasn’t so much of a mess anymore. Right after the Battle of Hogwarts Hagrid had managed to save Seamus from some of Aragog’s acromantula offspring, but the venom from their pincers had seeped into his bloodstream by then. He had been a real mess and taken to St. Mungo’s the moment he was stable enough to be moved. The easiest way the healers had found to treat him was to put him into a bewitched sleep until they had been able to remove the venom; this had meant that Seamus had been unconscious for nearly two months until they had finally managed to remove the poison in his veins and begin to work on the gaping wounds across his torso and legs. Now he was awake and improving rapidly, and I felt it was somewhat a duty of mine to visit him, just like I had done with all the others who had been injured and the families of those who had died. At least I knew Seamus, so the conversation came easily and lasted longer than most of the others’ he had visited, until it was approaching the end of visiting time and I was informed it was time to leave. I wished Seamus well with his recovery and mentioned that I may drop in again for another visit.  
Out in the corridor I caught the sound of that familiar voice again:  
“Take your infernal hands off me!” The voice snapped furiously. “I said, let me go! Now!” There was a slapping noise that sounded like bare feet hitting the linoleum floor and a tall figure emerged from the door just in front of me. I saw, and reacted just in time, as the person’s knees gave way and they began to fall; I moved forwards quickly, with my arms outstretched to stop them hitting the floor. I could hear the healers’ shoes squeaking as he ran up the ward and saw me catch the person.  
“Thank Merlin! Well caught!” He sighed exasperatedly, looking down at the man I had caught. Looking down I saw the pale, pointed face and white-blonde hair of Draco Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

My first instinct was to relinquish my grip on the unconscious Draco, but I felt that would be an inappropriate reaction in front of the healer.  
“I’ll grab his legs; can you help me carry him back into the ward?” The healer questioned me, I wanted to refuse but felt it would be impolite. I adjusted my grip so my arms were underneath his armpits and watched the healer take hold of Draco’s thin calves. I was surprised at how light he was as I lifted him off the ground. As I helped carry Malfoy to the bed nearest the window in the ward, I noted that there were only two others in this ward. My curiosity peaked as I released Malfoy back on the bed, why was Malfoy in St. Mungos’? The last I had heard about the Malfoys’, Lucius was being sent to Azkaban and Narcissa and Draco had been cleared of Death Eater activities. I hadn’t taken too much interest in the Death Eater convictions; it wasn’t something I really wanted to hear about since Voldemort had died. That had been the only thing that had mattered in my mind.   
“Why is Malfoy in here?” I asked the healer, who was promptly swinging Draco’s legs up onto the bed and covering him with the sheets.  
“Friend of Draco’s, are you?” The healer replied, pouring a glass of water from a jug on the table next to the bed.  
“I wouldn’t quite put it like that…” I muttered under my breath so that the healer wouldn’t hear me.  
“Could do with a friend, this one…” He rambled on, not looking at me. “He’s been here over three weeks and never had a single visitor… it’s a shame, doesn’t seem too bad a chap. Bit aggressive, doesn’t want to be here really – but that’s only to be expected.” He was straightening and re-straightening the four objects on the bedside table next to the water jug.   
“What’s wrong with him?” I couldn’t help but ask; maybe I was being nosy, interfering… After all this was the boy I had loathed for nearly six years of my life, the one person who I thought was worse than Dudley… but at the same time Draco had saved me at Malfoy Manor – he hadn’t ratted me out to the rest of his Death Eater family. That was something I couldn’t forget readily!  
“He’s dying.” The healer answered so casually that I was convinced I had misheard.  
“I’m sorry?” I blinked.  
“He’s dying.” He repeated, eyeing me up and down with a curious expression on his face. I had just opened my mouth to ask what was wrong with him when there was a groan from the bed and Malfoy’s eyes flickered open. It seemed to take a couple of moments for him to take in his surroundings and to register me standing next to his bed.  
“Potter.” He growled menacingly, “What are you doing here?” I took that as my cue to leave and turned away from the bed. The healer followed me away from the bed and caught me before I left the ward.  
“You should come back and visit him; it would be nice for him to have a visitor to talk to.” He suggested in a rather pleading tone.   
“I think you’ve just seen clearly enough what Malfoy thinks of me.” I retorted, looking back down at the last bed in the ward. “He wouldn’t want to talk to me if I were the last person on earth.” I smiled apologetically at the healer, who I heard sigh as I turned to leave.   
My feet carried me back along the corridor, down the stairs to the reception, which was still as busy as before, and out into the muggle high street. In the alleyway, two shops, along from Purge & Dowse LTD. I glanced around to make sure there was no one watching me, and turned quickly on the spot into suffocating darkness.  
I landed upon solid hardwood in the hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place and I wandered down into the basement kitchen. Lazily flicking my wand in the kettles’ direction, I pulled a mug from the draining board and began making myself a cup of tea. I wondered vaguely why Malfoy was in St. Mungos’; if only he had stayed unconscious for thirty more seconds then I probably would know…. But did I really want to know? It was none of my business, but I couldn’t help wonder. Malfoy had certainly looked ill… He had had a grey tinge to his already pale skin and he was extremely thin.  
I was brought out of my reverie by Hermione’s voice:  
“Harry? Harry, is that you?” She called, her voice sounding closer and closer.  
“Yeah, it’s me.” I answered, stirring milk into my tea. The door banged open and Hermione entered.  
“Oooh, are you making tea?” She asked, flicking a strand of hair out of her eyes as she took a place at the table and placed her elbows on the scrubbed table top. I flicked my wand at the kettle again and took another mug from the draining board.  
“Where’s Ron?” I questioned lightly.  
“Upstairs, re-writing his submission letter… again.” She said with a grin on her face. “I’ve had a look over yours too; you’ve got a few things to correct.” I didn’t bother to answer and took another sip of tea. “How did your visit with Seamus go?” She sounded interested as she accepted the mug of tea from me.  
“It was…” I paused, thinking how to describe it tactfully. “Interesting.” She raised her eyebrow at me and I sat down across from her at the table. “Seamus is doing well; he’s almost fully recovered now.” I considered for a second about not telling her that I had run into Malfoy (or more precisely, he had fallen into me). “But I ran into someone else at St. Mungos’ too. As I was leaving Draco Malfoy ran into me.” I was watching her reaction. “Well, actually, he collapsed into me, and the healer looking after him told me he was dying…” Hermione looked startled.  
“Dying?” The shock permeated her voice. “What of?”  
“Don’t know… he woke up before the healer replied.” I pondered, more to myself than Hermione. “The healer tried to make me say I’d go back and visit him, said he hadn’t had any visitors since he had gotten there three weeks ago. I mean, that’s a bit off, isn’t it? You would’ve thought that if his family and friends knew he was dying that they’d all be going to visit him…” The horrible thought that maybe Malfoy hadn’t told anyone he was dying stole through my mind….  
“Does it matter?” She asked curiously. “You’ve hated Malfoy since first year, why bother now?” The answer came to my lips so readily that I was sure my brain must have pre-planned it;  
“No one should die alone… no matter who they are, what they’ve done or how hated they are in life. No one deserves that…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV.

Bloody Potter… well it would be saint Potter who caught me, wouldn’t it?! I glared at the healer who was walking to the doorway with him; I wondered how much the damned man had given away… I couldn’t remember how Potter had suddenly appeared like that, so I tried to retrace my steps mentally. I had slapped Healer Kiely’s wrists to make him let me go, then walked as quickly as I could out of the ward. But my memories seemed to come to an abrupt stop as all I could remember was an encroaching darkness. I must have passed out.  
I hate this accursed hospital and all the healers and people within its walls; three weeks I have been here, kept in and not allowed to go back to my normal life.   
I almost snorted out loud as I thought about what I’d go back to if I left this place. No father or mother present, friends all busy and happy doing their own thing. No future, no prospects, no life to speak of. It’s all just a void of emptiness that mean nothing to me. I wanted to get out, I wanted to leave this place, but the healers had warned me that I didn’t have long. And there was no chance of me getting out unless I started to get better. But what did I have to get better for…  
No life.  
So I might as well give up and let this illness consume my very being.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

I turned over again and pulled the duvet cover further up me so that it covered my shoulders. Now I was facing the window I could see a pale pinkish light beginning to glow on the horizon as the sun started to rise. My body felt exhausted, I could feel my arms and legs shaking from tiredness, but my mind was as awake as ever and didn’t seem to have any intention of shutting down and letting me sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes the pale face of Draco began to swim in front of my eyes. I hadn’t had a sleepless night like this since before Voldemort had fallen. Eventually I sat up, giving up on the idea of sleep entirely.   
I wandered down to the basement kitchen and sat down at the table. I tended to end up in this room whenever something was weighing on my mind, for some reason it reminded me of Sirius and that was a comforting feeling. I couldn’t understand why I was unable to get Draco Malfoy out of my head… I rubbed my temples with my fingers and closed my eyes tightly.  
I must have fallen into a doze of some kind because the next thing I heard was a voice:  
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice came out of nowhere so loudly that I jerked awake and smacked my head on the wooden table.   
“What?” I muttered furiously, massaging the spot on my forehead that had just made contact with the solid wood. “You could’ve just nudged me…” I looked up at Ron and Hermione, who were both at the doorway staring at me with worried expressions on their faces.  
“Why are you doing here?” Hermione asked, looking worried.  
“Couldn’t sleep.” I murmured, I saw a look of concern cross Ron’s face. “Not nightmares or anything.” I added quickly, “Just couldn’t sleep.” Luckily Ron took this completely at face value, but I didn’t like the shrewd look on Hermione’s face.  
“What?” I snapped at her as Ron began to make tea and breakfast.  
“Nothing.” She replied lightly, looking away from me, but I saw her throwing suspicious glances at me from out of the corner of my eye.   
I didn’t have plans for the day; I very rarely made plans for anything anymore. My whole life had been planned to within an inch before Voldemort had been defeated and none of it by myself. Now school was over it felt like overkill to be planning every minute thing down to the last detail. If I felt the need I would never have to plan anything ever again in my entire life… and that came as a huge relief.  
But why, now that my life was so free and untethered to anything, did I feel so obliged to do something about Draco Malfoy? Why did I feel like this was something I was meant to do…?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

I had no real reason to be standing outside Purge & Dowse LTD. again. To be honest I had no idea why I had ended up here again. I knew I had promised Seamus that I would visit him again, but coming back only three days later was a little soon… nothing would have changed since I last saw him. I wondered vaguely whether Gilderoy Lockhart was still in the permanent spell damage ward, and if he was, would that be a justifiable enough reason to be visiting? In my heart I already knew the answer to that; no, it wasn’t good enough. I knew why I was here, and whom I was here to see…  
Entering the reception I didn’t bother to go and ask the receptionist. For some reason asking about Malfoy would make it certain that I was here to see him, whereas just wandering about made me think I had just randomly decided to pop in for a flying visit. But, far too soon for my own liking, I found myself on the first floor near the ward that I had seen Draco come stomping out of. I skulked unsurrepticiously, trying to read the title of the ward that Draco was in, but I was too far away to see it clearly, even though I was squinting through my glasses.  
“Hello again!” A voice came from behind me and I jumped, I almost groaned when I realised that it was the healer that had been on duty when I had caught Draco. “Back again?”  
“Yes, I’m here to see Seam-” I had started to reply, saying the first thing that I could think of, but the healer had cut me off in mid-sentence.  
“Come on in, I’m sure Malfoy will be pleased to have a visitor, especially you Mr. Potter!” He was beaming at me enthusiastically, I opened my mouth to begin to protest but before any words had come out he had grabbed my wrist and led me into the ward. “Draco, Draco look! You’ve got a visitor!” The healer said to Draco’s back, he was facing the window as if in a mood with the healer. It struck me that I could see every single one of Draco’s vertebrae sticking out through the thin material of the hospital gown it looked like he had been forced into wearing. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.” The healer said to me and bustled away. Malfoy took a long time to turn round, and I stood feeling rather awkward.  
“What are you doing here?” He drawled, but I was surprised not to hear the normal level of contempt it usually had; it sounded weak, strained.  
“Don’t ask me – that crazy healer literally dragged me in out of the corridor.” I answered, only half truthfully, Draco snorted.  
“Sounds about right, overbearing git.” He looked in the direction of the healer, who appeared to be making tea. Whilst Draco was staring off in that direction I surveyed him lying on the bed. He looked even more ill than he had three days ago; his face was pale, his cheeks hollow and his eyes blank. “I guess you better sit down then.” I was taken aback by this, I had been convinced that he was going to order me away like the last time and I nervously sank into one of the armchairs next to the bed. I felt incredibly awkward; I had no idea what to say to him, especially as he was staring at me expectantly with those cold, liquid mercury eyes. Casting my thoughts round I tried to think of something matter-of-fact to say that wouldn’t sound creepy.  
“So how long have you been in here?” I asked, even though I knew the answer to the question.  
“Three weeks and five days.” He answered curtly; I sat snubbed, not really sure how to progress the conversation any further. Before I could plan anything, or arrange words into any type of logical sentence the question I had most wanted answered came pouring out of my mouth:  
“Is it true you’re dying?” I felt my heart stop in my chest – that was the wrong bloody thing to say… Draco fixed me with a cold, penetrating stare and I felt heart creeping up my neck and face.  
“Why would that be any of your business?” He said, but his tone had changed.  
It’s not, I just wondered if it was true.” I answered quietly, looking down at my hands which were crossed in my lap. At that exact moment, the healer who had bustled away to make tea returned with two mugs in his hands.  
“Here you go.” He handed a mug to me. “And here’s one for you Draco, black, just the way you like it.” He smiled faintly before moving away again.  
“He told you that didn’t he?” Draco jerked his head in the healer’s direction, I nodded and he sneered. “Doesn’t know anything, that one. Biggest idiot I’ve ever met.” I didn’t answer, taking a sip of tea and noticing that Draco’s hands were shaking around his mug. “As if it’s any concern of yours, Potter. I thought you of all people would be glad that the world will have one less Death Eater roaming the streets.”  
“But you’re not a Death Eater.” I protested vehemently, a smile twitched at the corner of Draco’s lips.  
“Are you sure about that?” He challenged.  
“Yes.” I replied somewhat defiantly, Draco raised the hand which was holding his mug of tea (I noticed that his whole arm was now appeared to be quivering) and placed it on the table next to his bed. In a swift movement he pulled up the left sleeve of the hospital gown to show the Dark Mark branded into his skin. It was no longer jet black, but a faded grey colour. But that was not what struck me; what did were the bones in his elbow that poked through the thin, papery-looking skin which was covered with a layer of very fine white hair. I tried to regain my composure before I said anything; “It’s a brand Draco. A brand of any sort doesn’t make you who you are.” I looked up at him and saw the hardened look of disbelief in his eyes. “Apart from that brand, what else truly makes you a Death Eater? Apart from a family connection? All those things that you were meant to do, did you actually do any of them? You lowered your wand when you were meant to kill Dumbledore… you pretended it wasn’t me when I was brought before you in Malfoy Manor…” The last one was the one I had thought about most. “Thank you for that, by the way.” He snorted unconcerned. “I don’t think you’re a Death Eater…” I repeated. “And too many good people have died, you shouldn’t add to that number.” I wasn’t entirely sure where those words had come from, but they sounded about right. The silence between us stretched uncomfortably, I was about to get up and make an excuse for having to leave when Draco spoke.  
“Yes.” His voice cracked.  
“Yes, what?” I asked, non-plussed, he tutted in annoyance.  
“The answer to your impertinent question.” He replied with a hint of coolness in his voice; I hastened to remember what the question had been in the first place: ‘Is it true that you’re dying?’ and his answer was yes.  
It had taken so long to get that answer that I didn’t dare ask what he was dying of. I still wasn’t sure that Malfoy wanted me there and felt I’d be entering the territory of having a curse flung at me if I proceeded further. I shifted in my seat, thinking I should leave before I asked any more stupid questions. I tried to think of an excuse I could use to try and get away, but the healer interrupted my thoughts.  
“I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to leave now Mr. Potter.” He informed me politely, moving to Draco’s bedside. “Draco has an appointment very shortly and he needs time to get ready.” I nodded and placed my mug down before standing up, I had begun to move away when Draco spoke:  
“Potter.” His voice had regained some of its usual malice, I turned round. “Thanks for coming.” I stood, dumb-founded, for a few seconds, staring at Draco and was surprised to see a glint of a smile in his mercury eyes. I was so shocked that my voice seemed to have died inside me and I simply nodded and smiled at him.  
In a repeat of the time before, the healer followed me down the ward, also thanking me for visiting and urging me to do so again. I didn’t confirm whether I would or wouldn’t, not wanting to make any rash decisions that I would regret in future.  
“The last time I was here you told me he was dying…” I said, the healer nodded solemnly. “What ward is this?” My thoughts were that if I could find out as much about why Draco was in here then maybe I’d be able to piece together what was wrong with him. The healer sighed and looked back down in Draco’s direction.  
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” I shook my head. “This is the Self-Induced Injury Ward.”  
“The… The self-induced?” The words caught in my throat. “You mean, you mean…? He’s in here because he’s allowing himself to die?” The healer nodded, “But how? What of?” The healer looked me in a sympathetic way, almost pitying.  
“Do you honestly not already know?” He asked, “Draco’s anorexic.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV

Now I was confused… really confused… why the hell was Harry Potter coming to visit me? I vaguely wondered whether he’d been blackmailed into coming by the healer, but even the St. Mungo’s healer, wouldn’t go that far to get me a visitor, surely?  
The lights were out in the ward now, I couldn’t hear anything; although I suspected that was because of the silencing charms they had started to put around each of our beds at night (mainly because the girl in the bed next to me often cried noisily at night). I wondered if they’d hear me, I sat up cautiously, aware that my arms were trembling, and stood up out of bed. I tiptoed quietly toward the bathroom door and slipped inside.  
Finding myself in front of a full length mirror, I pulled my hospital gown over my head with my eyes shut and let it fall to the floor before I opened them. When I did, I wanted to clamp them shut again; it was a horrible sight. My hands flitted lightly over my skin, examining every inch. I tugged at the flab around my waist, I looked at the fat clinging to the bones, I could almost see the globulated pools of fat, yellow, slimy underneath my skin. No ribs, I couldn’t see them, they were hidden away under the layers and layers of pudge lying under my skin. My hands kept examining, down my legs now. I wished there was more of a gap between my thighs… the more I looked at them, the larger and larger they got. More than once I had been overcome by the urge to cut the fat out of me, on one occasion I had actually tried! It hadn’t worked though… I had just been left with a gaping wound and a crimson river flowing down the inside of my leg. The sight of myself in the full length mirror made me want to break down. I looked back again, feeling utterly repulsed by the sight of myself. I could feel my stomach clenching inside me, bile rising in my throat as I continued to stare at myself.  
Deciding that I had had enough of looking at myself, I bent down to pick up the hospital gown and flung it over my head; it did nothing to hide the fat all over me…  
Quietly I made my way back to my bed and sat down on the edge of it… wondering… and my mind had strayed back to Potter.  
Why had he come to visit? He didn’t quite sound sincere when he had told me Healer Kiely had dragged him out of the corridor… and he hadn’t exactly been racing to leave…. I put my hands up to my head and ran my fingers through my hair. Did he actually care? If he did he was the only person in the whole world… I was so confused…. The world seemed to have turned upside down! Who would have thought, Harry Potter, coming to visit me? I wondered if he’d come again… Good lord, what the hell was I doing? Wondering, no – hoping – that Potter would come and visit me again…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

I poked the piece of chicken on my plate with my fork and reflected on today.  
“Harry?” Hermione said and instantly I didn't like her tone of voice.  
“What?” I replied trying to keep my voice calm and light.  
“Are you going to eat that, or just push it around your plate?” She inquired, watching me as I moved the food to the other side of my plate. I put my fork down and pushed the plate away from me. “Is something wrong?” She asked concernedly, ignoring the fact that Ron had seized my plate and began eating what was on it.  
“No.” I lied.  
“Come off it mate, you've got that look?” Ron interjected with his mouth full of chicken.  
“What look?” I looked over at him, feeling an annoyance rising in me, I suddenly saw Ron wince and I suspected that Hermione had poked him under the table.  
“Is everything alright?” She asked again, I sighed, I suddenly wanted nothing more than to be in my room on my own so I could think.   
“I think I'll go up to bed...” I felt the intensity of Hermione's gaze sharpen. “I feel a bit sick...” I knew this would allow me to leave the room on my own without further question.  
In my room I sat down on the edge of my bed. I thought of the meal I had just been unable to eat, and my mind snapped back to Malfoy. Was that the sort of thing he would do? I had managed to make my way home without thinking any more about what the healer had told me...  
I should just forget about Malfoy, forget everything about the visit; forget the way he had smiled and thanked me for visitng... no, why did my mind keep returning to him... Was I just doing my 'playing the hero' thing? Yeah... that must be it, I must just be feeling the need to act the hero once more. I kicked off my shoes and lay down on the edge of my bed.  
There was no possible way that I had feelings for Malfoy...  
But lying on my bed, closing my eyes, I thought that my mind wasn't going to allow me to think of anything but Malfoy. I searched my brain for anything I knew about anorexia and how it had come to affect him, but I knew very little – the only thing I could remember hearing about it was Uncle Vernon shouting about how he didn't want a pansy little anorexic boy for a son when Aunt Petunia and himself had received a letter from Dudley's school telling them that he was overweight. I vividly remembered him shooting me a pointed look at this moment, but there was no way I was as thin as Malfoy. In comparison to Malfoy I looked like Dudley!  
My thoughts were interrupted, however, by Hermione knocking on the door. I sat up and looked at her, rather blearily as my eyes had been shut for the past fifteen minutes or so.  
“I thought I'd bring you up some water.” She placed the glass down on my bedside table. “Are you feeling alright? You don't look ill...” I wished she would go away and leave me to my thoughts; but then again, Hermione was probably the best to ask, she was probably a veritable mine of information about every subject. I looked up at her and steeled myself, thinking of the best way to phrase this question (not being particularly adept with knowing how to ask sensitive questions could sometimes make me sound cold, blunt and uncaring).   
“Hermione, what do you know about anorexia?” Her eyebrows went so far up her face I was sure they were going to disappear into her hair, her eyes were searching over my face and the silence spanned.  
“That's where you were today...” She whispered quietly. “You went back to St. Mungo's, didn't you?” There was no point in lying, she would see right through me if I did.  
“Yeah, I went and visited Malfoy.” I answered her honestly, I could almost hear the pieces of the puzzle clicking together inside her brain.  
“Malfoy's anorexic?” She asked shocked and I just nodded plainly. “Really?”   
“You think I'd joke? I sat and talked to him for almost an hour and a half, then when I was leaving the healer told me he's dying.”  
“Well, anorexia's complex... it would take a lot of explaining, and a lot of patience to understand...2 She said, “It's not very nice, especially if he's refusing to be treated, which is what it sounds like if they're saying he's dying.” I stayed silent, refusing treatment... I had a chill creep through me that I couldn't quite understand. “Why?” She looked inquisitively at me. “Why are you so interested in Malfoy all of a sudden?”   
“I'm not!” I protested insistently, but at the same time could feel the blush creeping up my face again.  
“Don't lie... Do you feel sorry for him?” She smiled, then she muttered under her breath, “I know I do... I mean, how horrible would it have to be living with a bunch of Death Eaters and being forced into doing things that you didn't want to do?” I shrugged, staring at anything I could to avoid looking at her, then I heard her gasp. “Do you.... do you like him?”   
“No.” I snapped, but I was doing a bad job of lying and she could so tell it. I stayed silent and, inconveniently, my stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.  
“You're a dreadful liar Harry.” She stated. “Of all people? Really Malfoy?” I didn't answer, looking down at my hands. “What about Ginny?”  
“You know as well as I that Ginny will never be able to look at me again – to her I'm the reason Fred is dead.” I shot back, heat rising in my chest the moment her name was mentioned – I had really thought she would stick by me, I really thought she had loved me.  
“Well, you thought that about Ron, and he doesn't think that.” Hermione said soothingly.  
“Ron's different.” I objected.   
“You think Ron would like it if you started dating Malfoy?” She propositioned.  
“You think Ron would like it if I started dating a man, let alone Malfoy?” The retort had come out before I had thought about it properly and I suddenly felt my colour change in my face as I turned scarlet.  
“You've thought about dating a man before?” She asked, ignoring the brilliant shade of red my face had turned. I really did not want to answer. “No, seriously Harry, have you?” I shrugged non-committally. “Look, I don't have a problem with you being with another man! Harry, answer me.”   
“Maybe.” I looked at my hands again. “Look, I really just want to go to sleep, so if you don't mind-”  
“You should tell him.” She cut me off, I blinked.  
“Who?”  
“Arnold the pygmy puff... who do you think?!” She replied scathingly, “Malfoy! It might help him.”  
“Do you honestly expect me to walk into the ward and say 'Hey, yeah I know you're dying, but I thought you might want to know I love you?'.” The intensity of the words that came out of my mouth shocked me, if I hadn't groaned when I heard it come out of my mouth.  
“Did you just say...?” She started.  
“I said, I did not mean.” I answered and we both sat in silence.  
“What does that mean – that you've thought about going out with a man before? I mean, you went out with Ginny and Cho, so you can't be gay.”   
“I'm not gay.” I said firmly, “I just like – some guys. I'm not going to jump on Ron or anything... just in case he gets scared by it.”  
“I know you're not.” Hermione told me. “But I think you should tell Mal- I mean, Draco. It might do him some good. I mean it might help him.” I scoffed, I knew how stubborn Malfoy could be and I felt that this would be one of those issues which he was stubborn about.  
“No,” I answered. “How would that look? Him on his deathbed and me telling him that I like him?”   
“It might get him off his deathbed.” This answer I had not expected. “And it'd give you the reason to go and visit him again... it's obvious that you want that.”   
“I don't know what I want.” I sighed. “I think I should get some sleep.” This was me telling her that I wanted her to leave, thankfully she took the cue.  
I collapsed back onto my bed, thinking about the conversation I had just had with Hermione. I wondered what Ron would do if I told him I fancied a bloke, I felt a sudden stab of worry as I thought about telling him I fancy Malfoy...  
And just like that Malfoy's face swam into my head. I could see those liquid-mercury eyes and pale skin and I shivered.  
What I did need now was sleep... proper sleep. So I must not think of Malfoy, I must not think of Malfoy – must not think...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third Person

A cold shiver ran down Harry’s spine, and he felt something warm pressed against his back. The shiver ran down his spine again as he felt something cold stroke the inside of his leg.  
“Don’t move.” Harry shivered when the rasping voice whispered into his ear. That voice…? It had to be; he tried to turn around, but the arms were holding him tightly. “I said, don’t move.” Draco’s voice was low and smooth; again Harry tried to struggle to turn round and as he did Draco’s hand ghosted Harry’s crotch.  
“Draco…” Harry uttered not realising the words that had formed on his lips; he could feel Draco’s heart pounding through the skin of his chest. He was warm and Harry loved the contact of skin-on-skin. Suddenly Draco’s hand closed around Harry, who moaned in pleasure as a chill swept through every nerve. Harry wanted to look at Draco; he wanted to see the man who was holding him so tightly, so tenderly. With Harry’s struggling, Draco relinquished his tight hug hold and forced Harry onto his back, holding on his arms tightly. Harry looked up at the mercury eyes, and saw the warmth and the passion sparkling down at him. Then, without any warning, they were kissing – at first it was light, sweet, but it quickly deepened. Draco’s hands were no longer pinning Harry’s arms down, but searching, caressing all over Harry’s body. Draco pulled apart from the kiss and started kissing and licking all the down Harry’s chest and torso. Harry’s back arched as he felt Draco’s tongue lick the area near his nipple and he curled his fingers in excitement and anticipation; Draco was very low down now.  
“Draco…” Harry groaned in pleasure, knowing what was coming.  
“Patience Potter.” Draco drawled, he was smiling as he looked up at Harry; even the sound of Harry’s name being spoken in the low, soft voice made him want to scream in excitement.  
“I’m not patient!” Harry gasped as Draco took him full in the mouth. It felt like an explosion had gone off inside both men; the endorphins rushed through their systems like speeding bullets. Both men moved in unison with one another, completely in union. Harry could feel the warm ball glowing in his stomach and beginning to spread as he got closer. Draco was still stroking his legs with his hands, which only made the sensation stronger. This must be heaven, the ecstasy they were experiencing couldn’t be described any other way, surely… the pressure was building in both of them, each letting out involuntary moans of pleasure from time to time, and just as they could both feel themselves coming….  
They woke up.  
Harry sat bolt upright in his bed, his chest heaving, taking in gulp after gulp of air… Had he really just had that dream? He must’ve if he could remember it that vividly; without meaning to he glanced around, as though expecting to see the tall blonde lying next to him in bed, but there was no one there, only him. He relaxed back into his pillows, his face soaked in warm sweat. As much as he had been trying to refuse having feelings for Malfoy, he knew he had enjoyed that dream…  
Likewise, in the ward in St. Mungo’s’, Draco had started awake. His skin had erupted into goose bumps and he was shaking, but he wasn’t sure whether that was from the aftermath of the dream or from how little he had eaten that day. He felt like he wanted to get up and get out of this ward and just run and run and run until there was no place left to run and he was away from everything. But he couldn’t run away, right now he didn’t think he had enough energy to raise his head away from the pillow… So he just had to lie there and think about the dream he had just experienced and how much he was wishing that it might have been real...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

I had paced around this room so many times in the past few days that I was surprised I hadn't worn a hole in the floorboards... That dream had been so, so- real! It had felt real anyway, and it had made me happy... The conversation I had had with Hermione the night before kept jutting in my mind. I could hear her words; “You should tell him... It might do him some good.”  
My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten dinner the night before, and interrupting my train of thought; I hadn't eaten for over twelve hours and I was really hungry... I decided that I should probably go down and get myself something to eat.  
Ron was sat at the table in the kitchen, I was slightly surprised to see him up and (supposedly) working so early in the morning, but he had a sandwich in front of him, which I half expected.  
“Morning,” He said, he sounded unexpectedly cheery and something about that made me stand frozen to the spot, unnerved. “Want a sandwich?”   
“Yeah, alright.” I agreed and he stood up to make one. I got the impression that there was something he wanted to talk to me about, but it might take some time to wheedle it out of him. I flicked my wand at the kettle to begin making tea for both of us and turned over two mugs. We remained in silence until Ron had finished making the sandwich and I had two cups of tea, and I sat myself down across the table from him. I took a bite of my sandwich, waiting for him to speak. After quite a considerable pause he spoke:  
“Hermione said something odd last night...” He was trying very hard to sound light and conversational, but I knew we had come to what he really wanted to talk about.  
“Really? What was that then?” I replied, taking another bite of sandwich but my heart was hammering so hard in my throat that I couldn't swallow.  
“She said that you like someone.” He was definitely sounding interested now; I swallowed my bite with some difficulty and gave a non-committal shrug. “So you do! Who is it? Do we know them?” I took a sip of tea to delay having to answer this; I wanted to do it in the best way possible.  
“You know them... but you don't really like them.” I said, trying to be as tactful as I could, Ron's brow knit together as he thought as he thought about this.  
“It's not Lavender, is it?” He asked suddenly with his eyes wide, I had just taken another drink and spluttered into my cup.  
“No, no it's not Lavender.” I had to suppress the urge to laugh; Ron had never quite gotten over his fear of Lavender since they split up in sixth year.  
“Good.” He answered, stuffing half of his sandwich in his mouth. He didn't seem to have anything else to say, that was all he wanted to know.  
I spent the morning pacing about the house, thinking about things that I probably should be doing. I should really be re-writing my submission letter, for the auror training course that I had been planning to apply for, now that Hermione had looked over it. The only problem was that I couldn't be bothered, I felt apathetic about the whole situation. Even if I did get into it (as I didn't have any N.E.W.T results) I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back into a life of constant and disciplined study and work. I didn't really have many other options, I hadn't considered a career as anything else in all my time throughout the school, and even if I did think of something else to do if I didn't have any exam results so I had very little chance of getting any other kind of job, not even one within the muggle world.  
I spent almost an hour considering what I should do about the submission letter, thinking whether I should get it and re-write it. It came as a start when I realised I hadn't thought about Malfoy for a whole hour. I then scowled, why did I keep coming back to Malfoy? There was absolutely no connection between the Auror training course and Malfoy... But, somehow in my mind, there was a link – both Malfoy and the auror training course seemed to somehow, inexplicably, be joined together by one thing. My future...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV.

Ah…it was fantastic to get out into the fresh air after being cooped up in that wretched ward for so long. It was a pleasant day, the sunlight felt warm and nice on my skin. I took a drag on my cigarette and hung my arm over the edge of the bench. I was trying to spend as much time as possible outside, to avoid going back into that surgically clean hell-hole that I was living in; I was people watching, it was pretty much the only thing I could do… This street wasn’t particularly interesting to people watch on however, the majority of people were muggles, going about their own boring business, shopping and meeting others. Every so often I’d spot someone who was clearly a witch or wizard – I could tell by the way they’d dressed so badly. It was almost comical sometimes. To them I must look like a muggle, dressed in my usual plain black-suited attire, sitting on this street bench. I closed my eyes, resting back onto the bench and enjoyed the sunlight which felt like it was streaming directly onto me. Then someone stood in front of me, casting me into shadow, even with my eyes closed I could tell it was a person standing in front of me.  
“Are you allowed to be out here?” A familiar voice asked me, I opened my eyes and was fairly unsurprised to see Potter standing there. His ebony hair was ruffled and windswept looking despite there being very little wind. He was staring down at me, his startlingly green eyes wide.   
“Piss off Potter.” I growled without thinking and instantly regretted it as a wounded look appeared in his eyes. “Do you think I’d be out here if I wasn’t allowed?” He shrugged and I watched him standing immobile for a few more seconds. Despite my first statement I felt a rush of pleasure that he had appeared here – and I tried desperately not to think about that dream… “Well sit down.”  
“What?” He asked.  
“You’re in my light.” I stated plainly, “I don’t get to see much of the natural kind. So either sit down or move.” I closed my eyes again as his shadow disappeared from in front of me, I took another pull on my cigarette, relishing in the nicotine rush that I was beginning to feel.  
“You smoke?” An incredulous voice asked, when I opened my eyes I realised that Harry had sat down next to me. I could feel myself smiling and there was an unpeculiar flutter in my stomach, which I knew had nothing to do with hunger.   
“Does that surprise you?” I drawled, the surprise in his voice made me want to laugh.   
“Well… I just thought…” He trailed off slowly.  
“You just thought that I, being a pureblood slytherin with a heart of steel, wouldn’t engage in such a filthy muggle habit?” I questioned, looking round at him.   
“Kind of.” He mumbled, “Apart from the heart of steel bit.” He said the last bit so low that I was sure he didn’t realise I could hear him.   
“Every day’s a school day.” I said rather sarcastically, I could see the confusion on his face and tutted loudly. “Are you really that obtuse? It means ‘you learn something new every day’.” I could hear the words coming out, snide and cold – though I didn’t mean them to be. Maybe it was my automatic reaction to Potter now, after six years of hatred I couldn’t seem to break the habit that easily. Potter was looking away now, I followed his line of gaze and saw he was watching a little old lady struggling with a multitude of shopping bags; I wondered whether he was considering going and helping her, that sounded like the sort of thing he would do… “Are you going to go help her?” I inquired and he shot me a look.  
“No, I’m not doing anything that’ll draw more attention to me…” He replied quickly, still watching the old woman.   
“You’re visiting me… I’m sure that could be considered as drawing attention to yourself.” I drawled, taking a final drag on the nearly finished cigarette, stubbing it out on the bench arm and chucking it into the bin. “I wonder what the Daily Prophet would make of it if they found out you had come to visit me three times in the past week.” Was he blushing? I couldn’t quite tell and it would look suspicious if I leant forwards to look at him.  
“As long as we both don’t say anything they’re not going to find out are they?” He muttered, I fumbled in my jacket pocket for my packet of cigarettes and dug in my jeans for my lighter. “You use a click lighter?”   
“Well I can hardly use my wand, can I?” I snapped back, “I’m in the middle of a muggle high street, I think they’d notice if I pulled out my wand and used it to light my fag*.” He sat in silence, my arms had developed goose bumps all over them and I knew it was because I was sitting so close to him. The silence spiralled horribly, there wasn’t really anything either of us could say after my comeback; I contented myself with continuing to smoke my cigarette. It, at least, stopped my stomach rebelling from the lack of food – it calmed the raging beast inside me.  
“Why have you come back?” I didn’t think, I just spoke. “You said yesterday that Healer Kiely dragged you in out of the corridor.” I saw the corners of Harry’s mouth twitching.  
“I heard you were dying. I didn’t think it was right if you died alone. Even though you hate me, it’d be better for you if someone was at your side.” He said in a very low calm voice, sounding as though what he was doing was the most logical thing in the entire world. I stared at him, he was looking at me now; the green eyes seemed like deep pools of warmth and comfort, I had to force myself not to look into them, because if I did, I was going to lose myself completely… just like in that dream.  
“You said, even though I hate you…” I answered slowly, “I don’t hate you. I haven’t for a while.” I felt my cheeks beginning to burn pink. “You didn’t give me any reason to hate you after sixth year.”   
“What’d you mean?” He croaked, his voice had gone strange.  
“I knew you were tailing me when I was fixing the vanishing cabinet, I knew you knew that I was up to something.” I answered; taking another drag in and blowing the smoke in Harry’s direction, surprisingly he didn’t flinch. “I knew you were on to me but you never really got me – and I knew it was you in Malfoy Manor, and I didn’t tell anyone. I thought it would cancel us out… I thought that might put away any animosity behind us.” I cringed, I felt like I was spilling my guts and telling him my deep dark secrets. My stomach clenched and I clamped my mouth shut furiously. ‘Shut up Draco! Shut up before you say anything stupid!’ The voice in my head said and I obeyed it.  
“It would be… It would be good if we could start afresh…. Like restart, like I’m meeting you for the first time on the Hogwarts express.” Harry stated, he sounded disbelieving, I nodded. Without warning, he stuck out his hand for me to shake and I took it; my hand tingled as my skin made contact with his warm hand. “Good god your hands are freezing!” He retracted his hand quite quickly; I had wished he had left it there longer. Vaguely trying to pull my brain back into the present and shoving any thoughts of the dream out whilst I had been touching him, I realised he was speaking.  
“Oh… oh yeah, my hands are always cold.” I said rather dreamily.  
“Why is that?” He questioned, but he didn’t sound curious. He knew. Damn, that pestilential healer must have told him! So he knew…. Knew everything?  
“You know why I’m in St. Mungo’s, don’t you?” I sighed.  
“Yes.” He answered bluntly.  
“Fuck!” I spat, glaring at the ground furiously. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Harry watching me. “Fuck… so he told you?” Harry nodded, I jabbed my foot at the ground in annoyance.  
“Do you want-” Harry took a breath and I knew what was coming. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Not particularly.” I answered quickly, “That’s why I’m stuck in this prison – to talk and to eat and all that other bullshit… I don’t really want to spend more time talking.”  
“Okay.” I noticed he sounded relieved when I said this and I almost laughed.  
“You don’t really want me to talk about it anyway.” I told him, then added much quieter. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.” Unfortunately he heard what I said.   
“How do you know I wouldn’t understand?!” Harry started suddenly. “You’d have to tell me but then I might be able to help!”  
“Help…? How?! Why would you want to help?” I could feel the heat rising in my chest, I didn’t like getting angry; I liked being in control.  
“You’d have to talk to find out whether I could help. And do I have to have a reason for helping?” His voice suddenly sounded airy.  
“You’re just playing the hero as usual…” The words came out before I could change them, I was losing my temper and I didn’t like it.   
“Really? Am I?” He sounded annoyed now, “Well, maybe you don’t need me to visit, maybe you don’t want to be visited by “the hero”.”   
I got to my feet so quickly that I think it startled him, and I took a few steps forwards away from the bench. I was fighting with the urge to tell him everything, to let him listen to all the fucked up things that were going on and see if he could do anything to change them, I knew he couldn’t already’ the urge to burst into tears was almost overwhelming – but I was not a girl, for whom that might be deemed acceptable behaviour, I was not weak.  
I didn’t realise I was trembling all over, I didn’t realise the world was beginning to sway all around me until Harry’s hands gripped my shoulders.  
“Malfoy?” He did sound concerned now, “Malfoy, can you hear me?”  
“Yeah,” I replied, but my voice sounded like it was very far away and echoey; there was a darkness encroaching from the corners of my vision. Harry was talking, he was asking me questions but I couldn’t bring them sharply into focus. “Give me a second, give me a second.” I repeated several times, but I could feel his hands steering me and shoving me down so I was sitting. Then I felt a hand on the back of my head and my nose was suddenly about two inches from my knees. The world seemed to come into sharper clarity, although I could feel my shoulders were still shaking and I could hear myself gasping for air.   
“Are you alright?” His voice was clearer now; I raised my head and saw Harry was peering into my face. I searched the eyes, surveying them, and realised they were genuine.   
“Yeah.” My voice was weaker than I had expected so I had to cough to clear my throat.  
“Does that happen often?” He asked and I threw him a scathing glance.  
“Occupational hazard.” I said coldly, though thinking to myself that it had been happening more often lately.  
“Occupational hazard?” He repeated incredulously, and I didn’t bother stopping the speech that I knew was coming, but all he said was: “Fine.” I didn’t like that reply.  
“What do you mean, fine?” I questioned.  
“I mean fine. You seem intent on destroying yourself, who am I to stop you from doing that?” He was staring pointedly in front of himself now.  
“I… I don’t understand.” I stated stupidly.  
“No, neither do I.” He answered shortly. I sat completely dumb-founded for what felt like half an hour, but it must have been only seconds in reality. “Should you still be out here?”  
“Probably not…” I muttered.  
“Let’s go inside, I’ll take you.” I offered.   
“I don’t need a bloody escort!” I snapped, but he didn’t back off, he just got to his feet and waited for me to do the same…


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

I wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Malfoy was so pale that he looked like death warmed up. No, more accurately, he looked like a corpse – the papery skin stretched so tightly over his prominent bones was doing nothing to help this image. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for arguing, or maybe he didn’t have the energy – either way he got shakily to his feet. I watched him, taking in every minute detail; the way he was shaking, the way every footstep seemed to take the greatest effort, the way his eyes were completely glazed over.  
When we reached the top of the stairs I noticed that Malfoy was lagging behind, at first I thought it was a reluctance to go back onto the ward, but then all of a sudden he stopped and leaned heavily against the hallway wall.  
“Malfoy?” I asked quietly, moving towards him. “Malfoy, do you need any help?”  
“No, just give me a second.” He answered, closing his eyes. He looked strange; his face was such a stark contrast to the dark material of his suit. I hesitated for a second and reached out my hand, gripping his shoulder. Unsurprisingly all I could feel was Draco’s collar bone and shoulder blade. “Wait, wait… I don’t feel so good.” His voice sounded peculiar, and when he opened his eyes his pupils were huge.  
“How not feeling good?” I asked, I could feel him trembling violently.   
“My… my heart feels… weird.” He was rubbing his chest with his bony hand. “Ah…fuck.” He was still leaning against the wall.  
“Come on, lean on me, I’ll help you back to the ward.” I told him, putting my arm around Draco’s skinny chest so I was supporting him under his shoulder. I could feel his ribs sticking painfully into my arm as I pulled him towards me so I was taking his full weight – which really didn’t feel like much at all. “Come on, just a few steps.” I encouraged him, watching as he put one foot in front of the other tentatively. “Nearly there… nearly there.” The ward was in sight now, Draco’s hand was still at his chest, and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that Draco might be dying. I was pretty much carrying him now and the healer saw me and came running towards me.  
“What’s happened?” He asked quickly, grabbing Draco’s other side and helping me carry him down to his bed.  
“He was outside having a cigarette and he nearly fainted, then when we got inside he said he wasn’t feeling too good and his chest felt weird.” The words gushed out of my mouth like blood from a wound.   
“Right,” He began moving quickly around Draco’s bedside, muttering spells under his breath. I stood at the end of the bed, staring down at the barely conscious man in front of me, but he didn’t look like a man… he looked like a little boy, despite his height. Was he scared? Did he know what he was doing to himself? Did he honestly not care at all if he lived or died?  
“Should I go…?” I asked quietly, still watching the healer busying himself.  
“That would probably be best, Mr. Potter.” The healer said, not even looking at me, so I turned round and moved as quick as I could out of the ward. My stomach turned over as I left, I wanted to stop and turn back – I had a bad feeling that I wasn’t going to see Draco again…  
My heart was pounding unbelievably hard in my chest as my feet made contact with the ground in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione were both in the kitchen sitting at the table, they both turned to look at me. I must have been pale or something, because both of them jumped to their feet.   
“Harry, you okay mate? Has something happened?” Ron asked. My brain was reeling, the image of Malfoy lying so completely weak and defenceless on that bed in the ward, I wondered whether he was dying… whether I would see him again, or whether he would die and I hadn’t told him how I felt… I wished I had listened to Hermione. Ron was still staring at me, waiting for an answer.   
“I think I’m going to throw up…” I said, putting effort into making my feet move as I bolted from the kitchen into the downstairs bathroom. Hermione and Ron had obviously followed me because as my lunch made a disgusting reappearance someone was knocking on the door. My whole body was heaving; I couldn’t understand why I was having such a fierce reaction at today’s events… I was kneeling on the laminated floorboards, clinging onto the porcelain toilet bowl when I heard the lock of the bathroom door click; Hermione must have unlocked it from the outside. They both came into the bathroom as I was desperately trying to stop retching.  
“Harry! What’s wrong?” Hermione sounded scared now; she was kneeling beside me as I flushed the toilet. “Are you ill?” I shook my head, I didn’t want to open my mouth again, I was fearful about what might come out. “Ron, grab a glass of water for Harry will you?” She spoke to Ron, smiling sympathetically at me. Ron turned around and I heard his footsteps echoing down towards the kitchen. The moment Ron was out of earshot Hermione spoke in a low, soothing voice. “Did you go and see him?” I nodded, “Did you tell him?” I shook my head, my stomach clenching all over again as I fought to keep the picture of Malfoy out of my head. “Did something bad happen?” I nodded again, closing my eyes and damning myself for the hot tears burning at the corners of my eyes. Ron was back with a glass of water, and I sipped very slowly at the liquid, worrying if I drunk it too fast that it would come straight up again. “Let’s go back into the kitchen.” My knees were trembling and Ron gripped his hand around my upper arm to support me, both actions reminded me of Malfoy. I was steered into a seat at the kitchen table; I placed both arms on the wood and laid my forehead on them. This felt weird – this reaction felt akin to the one after the dream where I had seen Mr. Weasley be attacked by the snake. I didn’t want to talk; I didn’t feel like I could talk, my brain was in too much of a spasm. Was Draco dying right now? I was shaking my head without realising, trying to rid the thoughts from my mind, not caring that Ron and Hermione were watching me. “Harry? What is it?” Hermione asked as I continued to shake my head.  
“I…. I can’t… I just…. I can’t…” The words were stilted and difficult to get out. I stood up, I needed to get out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third Person.

The healer was worried about Draco; this was the worst he had seen him so far. This was as bad as he could get, the only times he had seen anyone in this state before was with previous patients, who were all reaching the end stages of their lives as their heart muscle gave out, or was broken down… So Draco complaining that his chest was hurting didn’t bode well.  
The healer hooked up a drip of glucose solution into Draco, hoping that he would respond to the calories in that rather than continuing to break down what was left of his muscle. The biggest consolation was that Draco was still breathing and moving slightly; even though he had fallen into a kind of semi-conscious doze the slight movements and twitching reassured the healer that he wasn’t so completely weak that his brain was unable to function. He made a mental note to check on Draco every hour before he clocked off, and to notify the healer on night shift.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV.

I could hear everything going on around me, although it sounded like it was happening a million miles away. I heard Potter asking whether he should leave and the healer telling him that it was probably the best thing to do. I wanted to protest, I wanted him to stay, but my lips felt like they were made of rubber and wouldn’t move.   
I lay there, feeling rather trapped by my own body and its failure to comply with what I wanted it to do. I suddenly wanted my family with me; I wanted my father beside my bed, even though he would scold me right now for the state I was in, but he was in Azkaban. I wanted my mother, caring for me, spoiling me, but she was locked up in another ward in here even more mad than I was. I wanted Potter… but what hope did I have of that ever happening, even in a million years?  
I was very cold, so cold that I was shivering under the blankets that were covering me, then there was a strange warm trickling sensation starting at my left elbow and beginning to flow all around my body. I tried to open my eyes, but they would only open a tiny fraction. I could see something was attached into my skin, and I knew what it was – it was a sugar solution they used when they wanted to fatten someone up – couldn’t they see I didn’t need it?! I wanted to rip it out of my skin and get it as far away as possible, but my other arm was too heavy and wouldn’t obey. I was furiously damning my body, damning that it wouldn’t do what I wanted it to; it was useless!  
Stupid, fat, bloody mess. Why couldn’t I move? Someone was moving me though; my arms were being moved closer to my body and wrapped in some tight warm material.  
The next time I knew I was awake the light coming through the window had changed. My eyelids felt like they were being weighed down as I made the greatest effort to open them. Healer Kiely was still there, so it couldn’t have been ages later, he was sorting and tidying around the edge of my bed.  
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Draco.” He smiled at me, “You had a close call there, you shouldn’t scare us like that. How are you feeling?” My chest still felt tight, and my heart seemed to be beating a violent tattoo against my ribcage.  
“Sore.” I chocked, my throat was dry and the healer put his hand underneath my neck and propped my head up to let me sip from a glass of water.  
“You should get some sleep; you need to give yourself the chance to recover.”  
As the healer was lowering my head back down onto the pillow my heart turned upside down, or that’s what it felt like, I managed to say: “Don’t feel right.”  
“No, I wouldn’t expect you to Draco.” He said, “You need to get some sleep and relax.” I thought that the racing in my heart would stop as I tried to get off to sleep.  
But it didn’t.   
My eyes snapped open with my heart seemingly doing cartwheels inside me; it was pain beyond what I think I had ever felt.  
“Fuck!” It came out as a semi-slurred scream; I now had the energy to pull my arms out from underneath the mound of blankets and pressed hard on my chest. The healer was at my bedside in a matter of seconds. “Fuck, it hurts!” my words were majorly slurring now, I could hear how strange I sounded. “Please, get it to stop!” I felt the healer’s freezing cold hand on my forehead as I pulled away from the cold.  
“Lie back Draco.” He said, but I was leaning forwards with my knees pulled up close. “Lie back…” I was pulling in my breath and holding it as I rubbed my chest, hoping that this might make the pain go away. “Draco, you need to listen to me; you’re really not well, I need you to lie back.”  
Is this what dying felt like? Was I dying? I was rushed with the feat that I might be dying, and I had so much stuff I wanted to do and say before I went – I shut my eyes very tight, and a vision of emerald green eyes flashed into my mind.  
“Potter…” I croaked, grabbing the sleeve of the healer’s robes. “Harry… please…”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

Hermione had finally coaxed me out of my room about an hour after I had arrived back. So I was now sitting at the kitchen table, hands clutched around a mug of boiled water that Hermione had insisted I drink. I kind of wished that I had still been in my room without two of them watching me suspiciously.  
“Yes?” I asked finally, once my voice had regained some of its usual strength.   
“Yes what?” Hermione asked back.  
“You both look as though you’ve got something you want to ask.” I replied, Ron shifted as he usually did when he felt uncomfortable.   
“Not really, we just want to make sure you’re alright.” She answered, “You gave us a bit of a fright when you arrived.”   
“Sorry.” I mumbled, slowly putting the mug up to my lips and taking a cautious drink. “I didn’t mean to.”  
“What’s going on mate?” Ron asked, “You’ve been acting… odd.” I shot him a look under which he quelled.   
“Well at least he’s being honest!” Hermione said, “You have been acting strange Harry, I know you’ve had…stuff on your mind.” I was now glaring at her with such an intensity that I was surprised her hair didn’t catch fire. “Don’t look at me like that!” She snapped, “I haven’t said anything! I know what you’re worrying about, but you need to watch that you’re not turning into it yourself! You didn’t eat dinner yesterday, and everything you’ve eaten today you’ve thrown up.” I felt like I had been dowsed in cold water, genuinely her statement made me feel sick all over again. I saw an image of myself in the same kind of position as Malfoy, lying weakly on a bed with hardly enough energy to stand up for more than a minute.  
“Yeah, but I’m not doing that deliberately!” I wanted to rage and storm at her for even suggesting that, but my anger turned into a burning feeling in the back of my throat as the tears began to well up in my eyes. I looked down quickly at my mug, not wanting them to see my tears.   
“Oh Harry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Hermione started, looking aghast.   
“How did you mean it then?” I shot back. “There isn’t any other way you could have meant it!” Ron was looking completely baffled by this conversation, but I didn’t feel like enlightening him. That would be a whole other conversation; when I’d tell him about Malfoy.  
“I’m sorry – I didn’t think.” She apologised, and then there was silence. It felt like it lasted a long time as we all looked in opposite directions from each other.  
“Can one of you tell me what the hell’s going on?” Ron asked, “Or should I bugger off and do something else?” I felt guilty Ron was my best friend – really I should tell him about this, tell him what’s going on. But there was still the overwhelming feeling that he might hit me if I told him… so I didn’t answer, and I knew Hermione wouldn’t say anything unless I instigated it. “Right, well I’ll start making dinner, shall I?” He stood up from the table and moved over to the kitchen area of the room. I closed my eyes, I wasn’t hungry yet; I was still feeling too queasy after being sick earlier on.  
But then was Hermione right? Did that mean I was like Malfoy? Did that mean I was going to end up like him? The thought of that made me feel worse, so I tightened my grip on the now lukewarm mug of water and took another drink.  
All three of us in the kitchen stopped dead as we heard a dull ‘thunk’ from somewhere within the kitchen. Looking around, I didn’t know quite where I should be looking for the source of the noise. It was times like this when I was still terrified that some Death Eater was about to leap out at me from nowhere, but those days were over… Nothing like that was going to happen. Instead, an owl shot down from inside the chimney and landed rather neatly on the table. It stuck out its leg, where there was a piece of parchment rolled tightly into a scroll; I leaned forwards and unfastened it from the owl’s leg. It had my name scrawled in back-slanting handwriting across the folded over part of parchment. I flipped it open and read the three lines on the parchment.   
‘Mr Potter, I’m sure you’re aware after your visit today that Draco Malfoy is seriously ill. His condition, however, has deteriorated rapidly since this afternoon; he is requesting to see you. I believe it would be good if you could come and visit him at the soonest possibility; visiting hours need not apply. Signed, Healer K. Kiely.’  
My heart plummeted as I took in the information that this piece of parchment was telling me. A wave of nausea washed over me again, as I decided instantaneously that I had to go, now!  
“Harry?” Hermione asked, “What is it?” I looked up at her from the parchment.  
“I have to go.” I said, dropping it down on the table and practically running out the door, up the stairs and out into the cold night air. The moment I heard the front door slam I turned on my heels and merged into darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

I had lost all concerns about suddenly appearing out of thin air in a muggle high street as the darkness during apparition that I landed slap bang in the middle of the street and ran towards the window of Purge & Dowse, LTD. Inside the reception I didn’t care that people were staring at me as I charged towards the staircase and bounded up the stairs. I arrived at the ward entrance completely out of breath and made my way to Draco’s bed. The healer was next to his bed, he looked up at me.  
“Ah, Mr. Potter, I’m glad you came so quickly!” He said, “Draco’s not in a good way, I think you can possibly see that.” I looked down at Draco on the bed, it was the most pitiful thing I think I had ever seen; his lips were tinged blue, his tiny frame looked seriously broken and his pale skin was as white as the sheet he was laying on.   
“How bad is he?” My voice was shaking and I had gone all over.  
“It… it doesn’t look good, we’ve set him up on a glucose drip, hopefully that will help.” The healer answered eventually. “He’s having trouble with his heart, which I’ve only seen with those who have begun to break down the heart muscle.”  
“Do… do people recover from that?” I questioned, dreading the answer.  
“Not usually…” He admitted.  
“Uuh – do you have a bathroom here?” My heart hammering in my throat, the healer pointed and I nodded in thanks. I closed the door of the toilet and gripped hold of the edges of the sink. For about the millionth time that day, I felt as though I was about to puke… I took long steadying breaths, reminding myself that there wasn’t actually anything left inside me to throw up!  
‘Get a grip of yourself Harry!’ The little voice in the back of my head said, ‘You’re not the one who should be going to pieces! If you like Draco you need to get out there and tell him before he does die and you end up regretting it.’ The voice was getting stronger now. ‘You’ve got too many regrets to add another one to your list.’ This was true; there were too many regrets, too many lives on my conscience. ‘Now get out there beside Draco, sit next to him and tell him.’ I pulled my chin up so that I was holding my head high and prepared to face what was about to happen – honestly I didn’t think I had been more scared in my life.  
I sat down in the armchair next to Draco’s bed; I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to do this… but then what time was better to do it than when the blonde was fast asleep.  
“Draco.” I started, my voice was weak. “Draco, I have something to tell you… I don’t quite know how to say this. It was weird that I ran into you the way I did, or more accurately, you ran into me.” I stared down at the blond lying mutely in the bed. “I meant what I said, you know… about you not being a Death Eater… And I do actually give a damn, so you better not die on me! It’s your job to get on my nerves and piss me off! You’ve had that job for seven years now and I’m not going to let a little thing like this illness stop you doing it. I didn’t think you’d let it either!” I laughed, I couldn’t believe I was sitting here, spilling my guts to someone who was unconscious and would never know anything I had said. “And I don’t think I’d be the only person who noticed if you went – your family would, I’m sure of that! Your friends, Zabini, Goyle, Parkinson.” I wrinkled my nose at the thought of them, they didn’t seem like friends seeing that they hadn’t come to visit him, yet I was sure they’d miss him if he died. “But I know I definitely would miss you! Oh god…” I rubbed my face with my hand and looked down at Malfoy’s pale hands that were lying on top of the blankets. I had a flashback to being in Madame Pudifoot’s tea shop and psyching myself up to reach out for Cho’s hand; I remembered how difficult that had felt at the time. This time it was different, my hand went out of its own accord and settled on top of Draco’s ice cold skin. “I’ve warmed to you Draco, since I’ve been coming to visit you. I didn’t think it’d be possible for me to get on with you… not with all your constant jibes at Ron’s family and Hermione’s blood status. They’ve forgiven you too, well Hermione has at least. I’ve forgiven you too, but I think you already know that; but you need to believe that I’ve forgiven you…But yeah, I think I’m trying to get round to my point. I’m glad that you can’t hear me, I think you’d laugh yourself silly if you could; cause I actually like you Draco. I like you a lot… and not in the way you’d expect I think.” I felt like the words had come out in a massive rush. “So there…. Hermione’ll be pleased! She’s been wanting me to tell you for the last couple of days. Now I can tell her that I have, and it won’t matter that you didn’t hear any of it.” I stroked his fingers gently. “So don’t you dare fucking die now. I forbid you to; and you know me, whatever the “chosen one” wants, the “chosen one” gets! So that’s that sorted!” I sighed – that was it, done. Now I just had to sit and wait, and see if he was ever going to wake up… or if this was going to be the end of Draco Malfoy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV.

I must be having some kind of bizarre hallucination… yes, that must be it! I knew I had asked for Potter to come, I’d wanted him to come and see me – but I hadn’t expected him to arrive in what felt like a matter of seconds! My eyes were shut, my heart beginning to slow down it’s pounding within my chest and I was beginning to feel relaxed.  
I could hear Potter was there; I could hear him moving about and asking the healer questions. I was desperately trying to open my eyes, but I guessed the healer had given me something to make me sleep, it wasn’t working but it was stopping me opening my eyes.  
Then everything was silent. It sounded like both the healer and Potter had gone away. There was utter silence in the ward for a couple of minutes, not even the squeaking of shoes or crying from the bed next to me. I wondered whether my ears were sharper because I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard movement from near where the toilet was in the ward.  
Then I heard someone sitting down in the armchair next to my bed; it was Harry – I could tell, I heard him sighing. Then he started talking…  
My heart began thundering in my chest as I listened to him… he sounded scared at first, but then his voice grew stronger as he kept talking; at one point he even stretched out his hand and laid it on top of my skin, I wanted to curl my hand round his and not let go: “So don’t you dare fucking die now. I forbid you to; and you know me, whatever the “chosen one” wants, and the “chosen one” gets! So that’s that sorted!” I was absolutely positive at that moment that my mouth twitched; if I had been awake I would have been grinning at what I was hearing… Potter was admitting to me that he liked me…! That he liked me in the same way as that dream! My heart wasn’t hurting anymore, but it now felt as though it was going to explode with joy.  
At that very moment, as I was lying on the bed listening to Harry Potter telling me that he liked me, I was convinced that if I did die tonight that I would, at the very least, die happy.

 

The first thing that I felt in the stage between waking and sleeping was warm skin on mine. I squirmed slightly under the covers, I felt so warm and contented that I didn’t want to have to move, I was tempted to try and go back to sleep. I couldn’t tell what time it was, so I opened my eyes to find the clock. It was nearly 10 o’clock and the golden sunlight was flooding into the ward. Harry was sitting perched on the edge of the armchair next to my bed, his hand still on top of mine and his head rested on the edge of my bed. He was fast asleep, I could see his back rising and falling as he was taking deep breaths. For a moment I wondered whether it had been all a dream… Could it be possible that I had dreamt what Potter had told me last night? Maybe it had been a hallucination from the medication they had given me. But if it was a hallucination why was he still sitting in the armchair with his hand on top of mine? I tried not to wake him up as I pushed myself up without waking him up, but luckily he seemed to be in a very sound sleep.  
“Draco! You’re awake, how are you feeling?” The healer seemed to have appeared magically at my bedside, I jumped when his voice floated out of nowhere. This was something I hadn’t thought; how did I feel? Happy, I guess was the obvious answer; but physically I was tired, worn out. I shrugged so I didn’t have to put this into a coherent answer. The healer was now taking my pulse and nodding slowly to himself. “Your heart rate seems to have come down to a normal rate again Draco.” He was nodding in a ‘that’s very good’ sort of way, “But you have to understand that you nearly died Draco, you are very very lucky to be here. You need to start accepting our help, or this could happen all over again.” I frowned. The voice in my head was telling me he was lying, he was talking bollocks because he wanted to make me fat. That was why he was telling me this, I was fat and they wanted to make me fatter – they were trying to sabotage what I had been working on for so long! Burt then the other voice in my head was shouting louder;  
‘Are you stupid? Look at yourself Draco?! Actually look and take in.’ I looked down at the free hand, the one that Potter wasn’t holding onto. My fingers, long piano players fingers, were not graceful looking anymore, they were just bone and nail; I could wrap my whole hand around my upper arm. I shouldn’t be able to. ‘Why don’t you just listen to what the people are telling you? You’re ill… and you need help; and there are people trying to help. Accept it and get over your pride!’ The healer was still fussing about my bedside, pouring me a glass of water.  
“How…” My throat was so dry that I almost choked. “How long has he been there?” I asked, nodding towards Harry.  
“He arrived about twenty minutes after you requested him, and he’s been sitting there all night.” The healer answered, “You’ve got a good friend there Draco… you shouldn’t let that one go.” He smiled and moved away to the bed of the girl next to mine.   
Without remembering that Harry’s hand was on top of mine I pulled my knees up towards my chest and covered my face with my hands, desperately trying to stop the bitter tears that were welling in my eyes from spilling onto my pale cheeks. ‘A good friend?’ I thought, ‘What have I done to deserve a good friend?’ I heard Harry stir from beside me; my movements must have woken him up. I saw him through my finger raising his head, his hair more ruffled than it usually was as he had been sleeping on his face, he had marks on the bridge of his nose where his glasses had dug in. He looked impeccably cute as he peered at me blearily;  
“Good morning Draco…” He said rubbing his eyes. “Are you alright?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

Something moved from underneath my stretched out hand and then my palm was rested on a warm soft fabric. My glasses were digging into the bridge of my nose so harshly that I expected blood to pour from my face. For a moment I felt completely disorientated, I had no idea where I was. Then I remembered the night previously with the letter from St. Mungos’, and the healer telling me that it didn’t look good; and then me confessing all my feelings to him. Now he was awake, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his hands covering his face.  
“Good morning Draco…” I said rather tired, “Are you alright?” It was at that point that I noticed Draco was shaking, but not in the way that I had seen him doing in the past few days; his back was heaving, it looked like he was attempting to supress sobs. “Draco?” I stood up off the armchair and put my hand on his back, I tried not to notice how much I could feel his ribs; his back was rising and falling with his short, sharp breaths. “Draco…” He moved his hands down slightly and revealed his large mercury eyes sheened in tears. Then without warning Malfoy’s hand clasped on my arm and he buried his head into my shoulder. I stood, stunned, for a few moments before putting my other arm around the blonde and stroking his hair instinctively. I didn’t quite know what was going on, or why Draco had suddenly decided he wanted a hug from me of all people, but I was sure he could hear my heart hammering in my chest as he sobbed. I was reminded the same as yesterday, that he wasn’t really a man, for I was holding a mentally small and lost child.  
I held him as he sobbed uncontrollably into my shoulder for quite some time, eventually perching on the edge of his bed. It was only then that I realised that his hand was no longer gripping my arm, but clinging tightly to the front of my t-shirt. In days gone past I would have laughed at this, or even been suspicious of what he was going to do and why he was suddenly clinging to me…  
“Draco?” I whispered, as he stopped sobbing and hiccupped himself into silence. When he pulled away he looked both horrified at how he had behaved and unsure of my reaction.  
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled; I was still sitting on the edge of his bed, so I made to move back to the armchair, but Draco’s hand touched mine again. “Last night, I wanted to thank you for coming…” It looked like this was taking the greatest effort for him to say. “And… uh-” He looked away from me, gazing across the ward. “And I heard what you said.” My heart stopped and I felt a wave of heat wash over me, I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn red.  
“Wh-What…?” I stammered, thinking I had maybe heard him incorrectly – hoping I had heard him incorrectly, if I hadn’t then he had heard me say everything that I felt and my opinions and everything else I had felt it was necessary to say in my scared state.  
“I heard what you said last night after you arrived.” He repeated quietly, “You know when you were doing your usual Gryffindor thing of wearing your heart on your sleeve and spilling your emotional guts out…” I saw him wince.  
“And you’re doing your usual, bare-faced Slytherin thing now.” I quipped, then was shocked to see his thin face break out into a massive grin.  
“Maybe Gryffindors and Slytherins are more alike than we first thought?” He mused.  
“You’re probably right about that…” I laughed, “Although I’m not vain and self-important.”  
“I’m not self-important! At least I’m not stubborn and arrogant!” He replied, but I was grinning at him now.  
“Stubborn, yes…. Arrogant? No.” I nodded, “So we are alike in some aspects, and opposites in others.”  
“Less alike in anything, more complete and utter opposites.” I sighed, was Malfoy always this infuriating; but then I noticed that he was laughing too. “You know what they say? ‘Opposites attract’.”  
“Who said anything about attraction?” I said quickly.  
“You did. Last night.” He replied, “You said you liked me.” I didn’t reply, Draco’s hand had tightened on my own, and although his hand was incredibly cold, it was still soft. “But last night only you were talking… my mouth was glued shut or something, so you never got to hear my reply.”  
“So I didn’t get to hear your sarky reply, big deal.” I shrugged; the grin had dropped off my face now.   
“Why do you automatically jump to the conclusion that I’m going to be sarky?”  
“Force of habit.” I quipped.  
“Well if I had been able to reply I wouldn’t have been sarky.” He sounded slightly sulky now. “I don’t think I’d’ve said anything at all actually. I’d just have done this… Harry…” He turned so he was facing me where I was sat on the edge of his bed. Before I knew it Malfoy’s lips were pressed against mine, they were soft and cold, like his hand. For the space of a heartbeat I hesitated, then I kissed back.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV.

I pulled away from Harry with a slight reluctance; my eyes were still closed and I didn’t want to open them just in case I realised this was a dream.  
“So you really did hear what I said last night?” Potter’s voice cut through my haze of dreams, bringing me back to reality. He was looking at me, his eyes wide – he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, like he couldn’t just believe what had happened.  
“Of course I did, otherwise why would I have just kissed you?” I answered.  
“Cruel joke?” He suggested, but I could tell from his face that he was teasing me.  
“Of course! I mean, I can’t let my Slytherin qualities go to waste now, can I?” I still wondered whether this was definitely happening, but that kiss… it had definitely been real.  
“Did you call me Harry?” Harry asked suddenly, I smirked at him, of all the things to ask about after having just kissed someone who used to be a mortal enemy!   
` “Well, I would think it would be rather impolite to kiss someone when you don’t call them by their first name.” I answered, “Don’t you agree?” He shrugged at me.  
“I still call you Malfoy; I don’t think I’d get used to the idea of calling you Draco all the time.” Harry told me, “You’ve always just been Malfoy.”  
“And you don’t think that would change at all?” I said, “Do you not think if you got to know me, you’d get used to calling me Draco?” He didn’t answer; but just at that moment I noticed what the healer was doing, he was coming towards my bed carrying a tray. “Oh fuck…” My heart was hammering in my chest again as I saw him getting closer and closer to me with the tray. This was the part of the morning that I hated the most: feeding time. He slid the tray onto the table at the end of my bed and pulled it up towards me, I could see him smiling and I got the suspicion that he had been watching Harry and I the entire time.  
“Mr. Potter, is there anything I can get you to eat?” The healer turned to Harry, who was still perched next to me on the bed. “Toast? Cereal?”  
“Toast?” Harry replied nervously, looking from the healer to me and then back again.  
“I’ll just get some for you.” The healer was beaming, “And in the meantime, you can make sure Draco eats enough of his breakfast.” I wanted to scowl at Healer Kiely, Harry was not my keeper.  
“Of course.” Harry nodded, and now I was annoyed with him. What right did he have to suddenly decide he was going to watch over what I was eating?! It was none of his business! But… I kind of wanted it to be.  
I stared down at the tray and felt instantly sick. There was two slices of toast, a small bowl of cereal, a little pot of yoghurt and a cup of black tea. It felt like the biggest tray of food I’d ever seen; and the biggest challenge I’d ever have to face in my life. It would probably sound ridiculous if I said it out loud – compared to the banquets of food we used to be presented at Hogwarts there was only a tiny amount of food. I was just beginning to calculate how many calories were on the tray as a whole when the healer bustled over again with another tray for Harry.  
“Now Draco, don’t calculate, just eat.” He said, eyeing me suspiciously. I must have had a look on my face as I added up the calories on the tray; I knew I wasn’t meant to do that – the counsellor had made it clear that that was the first habit I was meant to break before I’d make any “real” progress. Not that I had actually wanted to make any progress at that point. I could sense Harry’s eyes on me, he was watching me – and if there was anything I hated more than food, it was people watching me with food. I looked up at Harry, who quickly started with his own tray of food.  
“I don’t like people watching me eat.” I stated plainly.  
“Is that because if you’re on your own then you don’t have to eat?” He mumbled, taking a bite of his toast. I didn’t answer; I just poked the toast on my plate with one finger. “Even Teddy eats his food better than you.” He added, taking another bite.  
“Who’s Teddy?” I asked, looking up at him as he was chewing his toast.  
“He’s my godson. Remus’ son.” Harry replied.  
“Lupin made you godfather to his son?” I sounded more than a little sarcastic when I said it.  
“Yeah, before the war. Before he…” Harry trailed off, looking down at the tray and I knew why he had stopped talking; I knew Lupin and his wife, my cousin, had died in the war. He coughed, seemingly recomposing himself. “I’m glad he did. Otherwise Teddy wouldn’t have many other people to look after him now, his gran’s doing a great job, but she needs some rest sometimes.  
“Wait, Andromeda is looking after him?” He blinked at me, and then I visibly saw the penny drop.  
“Andromeda is your aunt, isn’t she?” He gasped, his mouth wide open.  
“So you’re godfather to my little cousin.” I replied, nodding. “Well that’s unexpected.” Harry’s piece of toast was halfway up to his mouth, though his deep thoughts seemed to have interrupted his desire to eat.  
“I forgot you were related to Tonks and…” He stopped, his mouth really wide open now and he was staring at me with his eyes agog.  
“And who?” I asked, frowning at his expression of complete bewilderment.  
“No one.” He muttered, looking down, then he added: “Aren’t you going to eat that?” I scowled as I knew he was changing the subject on purpose.  
“I don’t intend to.” I sneered disgustingly at the food.  
“Well I do intend you to. Otherwise I’ll force feed you.” There was a note of steel in his voice that I didn’t think there was any point arguing with. “Do you not like it, or what?” He shrugged. “If you could have anything you wanted to eat, what would you have?”  
“You sound like you’ve taken over my psychologist’s job!” I snorted, but all the same I was fathoming over his question – if I could have anything I wanted what would I want? “If I could have anything I wanted, I’d have oatcakes and pate.” The answer had fallen from my lips before I realised what I was saying, he snorted into his tea.  
“Even that makes you sound snobbish!” I felt my cheeks burning pink.  
“Well what would you have?” I snapped, glaring at him furiously.  
“Anything.” He shrugged. “I’m not too bothered about food.”  
“Clearly.” I said under my breath.  
“Although thinking about it…” He continued oblivious to me having said anything. “Treacle tart… that’s what I’d want.” I winced, how could he not know or care how many calories were in treacle tart?! “What?! What’s that face for?”  
“Nothing.” I answered quickly, “I just think that treacle tart is the last thing I’d want.”  
“By the looks of things, everything is the last thing you’d want!” He eyed my tray. “Don’t think you’re getting out of eating that by distracting me!” He scolded. “You’re going to have something, even if it’s a small piece of toast.” I folded my arms and stared defiantly at Harry; the more he said I was going to eat the less I felt tempted to. “Please…?” He was pouting childishly now, but he looked so pathetic it nearly made me laugh. “Please… for me?” His tray was rested on the small table now and he was leaning on the edge of my bed. I couldn’t believe he was pulling the sympathy vote on me!  
“You’ve not got that amount of pull over me yet!” I told him and he sighed.  
“I just… I don’t want a repeat of what happened last night.” His voice was quieter and much softer now, he sounded upset. He was leaning in closer to me and his lips ghosted lightly on my cheek’ he was tempting me harshly. But as I turned round to kiss him, he pulled away.  
“Eat some toast, then you’ll get a reward.” He was grinned as he bribed me, but it wasn’t going to work.  
“No.” I said shortly, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. “I have worked too hard for this… I will not have it ruined in a matter of hours!” He stared at me. “You don’t understand! I don’t want to eat anything!” Goose bumps were forming all over my skin as I felt so uncomfortable, I was almost shouting now.  
“Right…” I expected him to blow his top, his anger used to always be easily displayed; but he didn’t, instead he just appeared to deflate where he sat. “Right, well…I better go home, have a shower, get changed, you know?” He stood up, nearly dislodging the tray from in front of me.  
“Harry…” I appealed to him, but he was looking down at his feet and didn’t seem to want to make eye contact with me.  
“I’m glad you’re feeling better than last night.” He said slowly, “I hope you have a good day.”  
And he was leaving… even as I called out after him he didn’t slow down or stop, he didn’t even look round as he disappeared out of the door of the ward. I was so confused! I felt utterly lost in this situation, I felt guilty and angry at the same time. I flung the tray of food off my bed so it landed with a huge clatter and got out of my bed very quickly. I ran to the toilet in the ward and slammed the door closed, locking it behind me. I slid down the toilet door… how had that all gone so wrong, so quickly? Didn’t he understand that I didn’t want to get better…?  
‘But you do want to get better!’ The little voice in my head scolded. But I don’t know how…. I didn’t know how I would go about getting better. ‘Apologise to Harry, and start trying to do what people tell you when they’re trying to help! Get over yourself!’


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

The anger was welling up inside my chest as I stormed from the ward. I rubbed my face as I descended the stair well; I must look like a right state… I was slightly stiff from being sat in that armchair for nearly twelve hours and my hair would be more all over the place than it usually was.  
I wondered whether I could walk all the way back to Grimmauld Place; although I remembered the last time that I used muggle transport to get back it had taken forever. But I spent about ten minutes walking in furious circles wondering whether I should go back, before I came to my decision. I would go home and have a very hot shower and get something to eat.   
I landed carefully next to the bench in the middle of the square in front of 12 Grimmauld Place and stood looking up at Sirius’ house. It was still “Sirius’ house” to me even though I now legally owned it. Really – if Sirius hadn’t known how to get around the pureblood laws that his family had placed upon the house, then its rightful owner would have been Draco… I scowled even more than I had been doing and approached the house that I knew most people couldn’t (and probably didn’t want to) see.   
I yanked open the door and pulled it closed harshly behind me. The house sounded completely silent for a couple of minutes, then there was a scuffle from upstairs and both Ron and Hermione appeared on the stairs. Hermione had the anxious look on her face that was becoming an increasingly common sight, but Ron was looking livid. This didn’t look good…  
Before I could fore stall them by saying that all I wanted was a shower and a sandwich Ron had started to shout.  
“Malfoy?” Oh shit, he knew. “Of all the fucking people Harry! Malfoy?” I grimaced as he shouted at me. “I really think you need to go and talk to someone mate – you need therapy, not getting involved and messed up in some big new drama with Draco Malfoy!”   
“Ron, shut up!” I commanded so fiercely that he did stop abruptly. “I don’t need a lecture, and I don’t need anyone to tell me not to get messed up in drama, alright? D’you really think I’d get involved with him if I didn’t want to Ron?”  
“So you want to get involved with him?” Ron asked, more timidly after my outburst.  
“Maybe.” I nodded, “So what if I do want to get involved with Malfoy? What if I do?” I stopped glaring at Ron and turned to Hermione. “Did you tell him?!”  
“No…I didn’t.” She said, “But he saw the note from the healer at St. Mungo’s, so that’s how he knows you were going to visit Malfoy.” She was still staring at me with an appealing look in her eyes.  
“Oh...” I breathed out, “Oh so he doesn’t know?”  
“I don’t know what?” Ron fired up again, looking from Hermione to me and back again. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s clearly something. You answer me, now.” I was suddenly reminded of Mrs. Weasley, with the commanding stance and tone of voice.  
“We should go into the kitchen.” Hermione told us both, I knew from her look that she was meaning that I had to tell Ron what was going, and doing that in the middle of the hallway maybe wasn’t the greatest idea. So I led the way down to the basement kitchen, and stood leaning against the fireplace as they sat down.   
“So…” I started, not knowing how to continue, what to say. “So just say, just say you know how a couple of days ago, you asked me if I liked somebody and I said yes. But I wouldn’t tell you who?” I didn’t wait for an answer; I had my back turned to them so I couldn’t see their faces. “Well, just say, that person is a guy.”   
“Are you saying you fancy a bloke?” Ron asked, sounding bewildered.  
“Yeah.” I coughed. “Yeah that’s exactly what I’m saying.”  
“But, you and Ginny?” There was anger creeping into his voice. “Were you just jerking her about until you found someone better?”   
“No.” I turned round to look at him, “I genuinely liked Ginny… I wish it had been different between us… but too much went on, you know that. I wasn’t messing about with her, it just didn’t work out… and I need to start to move on.”   
“Move on…?” He sounded even more confused now. “Move on with a guy?”  
“Well yeah… I really like him…” I told him, shoving my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking. I saw the penny drop behind his eyes as clearly as though there had literally been one in his head.  
“Malfoy?! You’ve been visiting Malfoy! You’re telling me… You’re telling me the boy you “like” is Malfoy?!” His voice was inflected with incredulity.  
“Well…yes.” I shrugged, looking at the floor.  
“This is a joke, right? You’re having me on; this is just one big joke!” He seemed to be begging me more than making a plain statement.   
“No joke.” I shook my head. Ron goggled at me, and Hermione’s gaze was flickering between the two of us.  
“You actually fancy Malfoy?” Ron still sounded unsure, but I nodded tentatively. “I don’t know… I don’t like this… I don’t like him! He’s always been a slimy git; nothing’s really changed since the war! He could be up to something.” I snorted loudly.   
“He’s so up to something that he can hardly get out of bed for more than a minute at a time! And that he thinks no one in the world would care if he died, cause he’s “just another Death Eater”. But another Death Eater who saved us at Malfoy Manor if you don’t remember! He was under just as much pressure as we were, but just on the other side! But he’s ill now and I want to help him!” Ron was watching me with disbelief on his face. There was a long silence as the two of them seemed to digest my words.   
“I still don’t know. You, dating a bloke?” Ron sighed, “You dating Malfoy?! I don’t – I don’t like the thought of it. I don’t know mate.”  
“Well you don’t need to think about it, but I’m going to be involved with him whether you like it, or not.” I stated, then decided to take my leave from the room.  
Shower… hot, running water landing on my cold skin and making it tingle all over. That conversation hadn’t gone quite as I’d anticipated… I had expected yelling, but I hadn’t expected my replies to be quite as strong as they had come out. I stood under the water for a long time, almost wishing that I might dissolve and wash away down the plug-hole.  
I had spent ages in the shower, probably putting off what I wanted next, a sandwich. I knew that Ron and Hermione were probably still in the kitchen and I was delaying going back down. But my stomach was growling with hunger and I knew I couldn’t put it off much longer. I went down the stairs as quietly as I could, avoiding the floorboard outside the kitchen that squeaked, and heard Hermione’s voice floating out of the room.  
“What does it matter if it’s a guy Ron? Is there really a big deal? He’s not gay, he just likes Malfoy.”  
“That’s the problem though! Malfoy… I mean, really?” Ron replied back, sounding exasperated. “I think I could almost get my head around him… being with a bloke if it was anyone but him…”  
“Look, Harry’s been through a lot, so has Malfoy… maybe it’s just a way of helping each other sort out what’s happened.” Hermione had cut over him, “Let’s just not push it, okay? Let’s just leave it; we’ll hear what’s going on through Harry…” Ron made a kind of impatient noise. “Ron, he’s your best friend!”  
“Okay, okay! Don’t nag!” Ron said, and I leant against the door, slowly pushing it open. Hermione saw me first and her cheeks instantly turned a deep magenta.   
“Having a nice little cosy chat about me, are you?” I asked coldly, flicking my wand at the kettle and beginning to toast some bread.  
“No. Hermione was just knocking some sense into me.” Ron answered seriously, then he perked up. “Are you making a sandwich?” I looked at him, and knew I couldn’t hold a grudge against my best mate for long.  
“Yeah – I am, you want?” I offered, holding a buttered knife in my hand.  
“Please.” Ron nodded; Hermione made an impatient tutting sort of noise. “What?”  
“Is that it?” She asked and we both stared at her. “You argue and then you have something to eat?”   
“Yeah…” I shrugged, “We’ve had our disagreement, let’s not dwell on it.” I laughed at the look on her face; she looked completely shocked at the sensibility we both seemed to have developed in the past few minutes. Then Ron snorted with laughter and broke the tension.  
“Harry, don’t tell me what you’re… doing with him… and as long as you don’t do that it’ll all be fine.” Ron grinned as I passed him the sandwich I had made for him and sat down at the table with them. Hermione was still glaring at the two of us as if we’d done something wrong, as we both dived into our sandwiches.  
“Are you going to tell us how Malfoy was?” Hermione announced finally. “You practically disappeared off to St. Mungos’ last night and stayed there for hours!”  
“Oh…” My mouth was still full of sandwich. “Oh, I didn’t think… he’s alright…” Hermione raised her eyebrows at me and I knew that she was seeking more information than this. “He wasn’t too good last night, the healer said he was having problems with his heart and they weren’t sure whether he was going to make it.”  
“S’up wif Malfoy?” Ron asked, his mouth still full of sandwich.   
“He’s anorexic.” I told him and he stopped chewing.  
“His heart?” Hermione interjected. “That doesn’t sound good.”   
“Yeah, but the healer was doing stuff that would help him. He seemed a lot better when he woke up before…” I stopped.  
“Before what?” She said.  
“We kind of had an argument…” I screwed up my face. “I tried to make him have something to eat and he didn’t like it. I had been there all night, so that’s when I decided I should come home for a shower and stuff.”  
“So you just upped and left?” Now she sounded angry with me, “Are you really that insensitive Harry?” She sighed; I didn’t reply I just glared annoyed. I was just annoyed, she hadn’t been in the position I had been with Draco – and she didn’t know how much I felt for him…


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third Person.

‘Harry,   
I’m sorry for acting like an idiot; I didn’t mean to be too full on.  
My apologies,   
Draco.’

*  
‘Draco,   
You weren’t too full on. I should have been more sensitive about everything.  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
I didn’t think sensitive was a word in a Gryffindor’s vocabulary.  
With forgiveness,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
You learn something new every day. It’s clear that you’ve never spend any time with Hermione, her middle name is sensitive.   
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
That’s funny – I thought Hermione’s middle name was “know-it-all”.  
Apologetically,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
That’s my best friend you’re talking about remember? You better not go down your pureblood snobbery again, or I’ll have to do something about it!  
Why do you always sign off with an apology?  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,   
You know I’ve never spent any time with Hermione! Although I’d rather be a mudblood than a pureblood at the moment – especially a pureblood with the name Malfoy…  
Why do you never use a sign off at all? Were you not taught how to write letter?  
In annoyance,  
Draco.’  
*

‘Draco,  
To be honest, I think Hermione’s other middle name must be “know it all”, but in a good way! She’s saved my skin quite a few times, especially in the past year.   
I was taught how to write letters! I just can’t remember whether it’s ‘Yours Sincerely’ or ‘Yours Faithfully’ when it’s someone you know!  
Just for you, in confusion,  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,   
I’ll be sure to thank her the next time I ever see her for saving your skin, you have nice skin.  
Oh, and its Yours Sincerely when it’s someone you know!  
In faith of reply,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
Well… thank you for the compliment!  
What does ‘In faith of reply’ mean? Does that mean you want me to reply?  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
You should be happy! Malfoy’s don’t give compliments!  
Yes, that means I want you to reply.  
Eager to hear news,   
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,   
I’m sure you’re used to getting compliments! I remember that Parkinson girl who used to follow you around fawning you with compliments like you were made of gold!  
I can’t think of any kind of witty sign off, so I’ll not bother.  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
I can’t remember the last time I had a genuine compliment from someone who actually meant it. Yeah, Parkinson used to follow me around all the time, but that was only cause she wanted to sleep with me.  
You don’t need to think of anything witty to say, you’re funny enough without having to think about it.  
Boredly,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
You can’t remember the last time you had a genuine compliment? What? You should be getting tons of compliments! You’re a decent guy, people will actually get to know the real you and notice that now that the war is over! And you’re not bad looking either. You know, even when you look like you’re going to snap you still manage to look hot.  
Did you sleep with Parkinson? (Sorry if that’s too much of a personal question).  
Cheerily,   
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,   
I’d snap? How do you think I would snap? What would you do that would make me snap?  
Despite the rumours I didn’t actually sleep with everyone in Hogwarts…  
Pansy changed her tune when she found out I was gay, she wasn’t too interested after that.  
What about you and the Weasley girl?  
And why are you so cheery?  
In depression,   
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,   
You’re tiny! I don’t think I could hug you without damaging you internally or something!  
I never heard those rumours; I was too busy doing other stuff to listen to people talking… so she just disappeared?  
Nah, I liked Ginny, but I didn’t really spend a lot of time with her – I was only with her n my sixth year and I was busy with Dumbledore searching for horcruxes. And after the war Ginny couldn’t even look at me, it was my fault that her brother had died.  
Don’t be depressed, please.  
Worriedly,  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,   
I doubt you’d damage me internally! I’m tougher than I look you know… but I still don’t think you’d manage to break me.  
She didn’t drop me completely; she just stopped the constant attention once she knew it was never going to happen. She still hung about with us, but even before then I can’t remember getting a proper compliment. Apart from the one from you just now!  
Really? I thought you would have been with her right away…  
In non-depression,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
Well now you have had a genuine compliment, and I meant it! And what I mean is you’re so stick thin that I could crush you with my strength!  
That’s a shame she just dropped you – that sucks big time!  
What, so am I some kind of big man slut now? Going with the first person I see right away?  
Offendedly,  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,   
I am not stick thin, that is just wrong.  
No! I didn’t mean it like that at all! That sounded all wrong but that’s not what I actually meant! Slytherin qualities definitely coming through.  
What I meant was people kept telling you were going to face the Dark Lord and die, so I thought you’d have “made the most” of any relationship.  
With major apologies,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,   
Its okay, I wasn’t really that offended or anything by it – I’ve heard worse rumours any way… and I was too busy trying to bring down Voldemort to have time for anything or anyone else really…   
I’ll forgive your slytherin qualities; I don’t think you can consciously stop them!  
I’m sorry if I upset you by calling you stick thin, but it’s true! I’m not meaning to seem harsh, I’m just being honest.  
With hugs,  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
I don’t know, it just feels like you’re lying about the whole “thin” thing… that’s what it feels like in my head.  
You should really just come and visit you know, talking is much easier than these written conversations.  
Thanks for the hugs,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
Well I’m sorry for making you feel awkward.  
Are you missing me? Is that why you want me to come visit?  
Amusedly,  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
Its okay, I forgive you.  
Maybe I do want you to come and visit, that doesn’t necessarily mean I miss you.   
Still definitely a slytherin,  
Draco.’  
*  
‘Draco,  
I think you do miss me, and you should admit it!  
How are you doing with everything? Is the healer still being annoying?  
Convinced that you want to see me,  
Harry.’  
*  
‘Harry,  
You assume too much. That must be your Gryffindor feelings coming out.   
The healer’s still being a bastard, as usual; I don’t think that will ever change though! He’s getting pissed off that I’m writing letters, we’re not meant to have owls in the ward, but this one keeps fluttering in and out through the window. He doesn’t like it very much… so I think I should stop sending letters before he confiscates the owl or something mental like that!  
Love,  
Draco.’


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

I couldn’t help but stare down at the last letter that Draco had sent me; I now had a small mountain of parchment sat on the table next to me in the sitting room. His last letter was the one I was most interested in, and I was goggling at his sign off – ‘Love, Draco.’ Goosebumps had formed all over my skin as I read and re-read those two words over and over again.  
Maybe he was incredibly bored – well he must have been; as I had received the first letter at about half past two in the afternoon and we had been writing all afternoon and it was now nearly nine o’clock. I knew I had been incredibly bored; I didn’t actually have anything to do. I spent nearly an hour, after getting back and having a shower, in the kitchen with Ron and Hermione – but they had been planning to go out and visit the Burrow, I felt like I’d be gate crashing if I went with them. I still felt a little awkward being around all of the Weasleys’ at once; I just felt guilty, especially when I saw George, and my mouth always went dry and I couldn’t think of anything to say. So even though Hermione tried to persuade me to go with them this time, I bluntly refused. I tried telling her that I needed some time on my own to think and eventually she gave up on me, realising that I wasn’t going to go with her no matter what she said.;  
So after they had gone I had wandered about the house, and ended up in the sitting room in the armchair next to the window; which was when the owl arrived.  
I knew I had probably been rude to Hermione when she asked me to go with them, but I was almost past the point of caring – I couldn’t get Draco out of my head. I hadn’t really been that nice to him either, I had been really pushy, and what had he said: “I have worked too hard for this; I will not have it ruined in a matter of hours!” I should have realised that the problem was bigger than him just not eating; it was that he had a block against eating. He just didn’t want to – he felt like he couldn’t.   
So why was I sitting here almost an hour since the last letter had arrived, thinking about Draco and those two words… I was sure that it’d be too late to go and visit him now,l so I restlessly got up from the chair that I had been sitting on and wandered around the rest of the house.  
I heard the front door opening and closing, so I knew they were home; I was back in the kitchen, it must look like I hadn’t moved the entire afternoon.  
“Hey Harry! Mum sent something for you!” Ron’s voice echoed from upstairs, it sounded like they were in the sitting room now. I proceeded to go up the stairs and enter the room where there was a neatly folded new knitted scarf and a box of cakes. I couldn’t help but smile at them, I didn’t think Mrs. Weasley would ever stop sending me knitted items of clothing; but I loved them. “You should’ve come with us; mum almost went batty when we told her you weren’t coming. She nearly came here herself and dragged you to dinner. You better come next time, then you’ll be able to answer all her questions!”  
“I’m not sure that’d be a good idea.” I muttered under my breath.   
“Harry, you need to come and re-integrate at some point…you can’t hide away from everyone forever. You haven’t done anything wrong, so you need to stop hiding away, especially from the Weasleys’; they care for you no matter what’s gone on.” Hermione told me, shaking her head slightly.  
“It’s still my fault.” I insisted, this was what I had said every time they invited me round to the Weasleys’, Hermione sighed.  
“So… have you been doing anything while we were away?” She asked eventually. I then noticed that she was sitting on the chair nearest the window; all the letters from Draco were perched on the arm of the chair and I could feel my cheeks burning red.  
“No, not really…” I tried to sound casual, while internally damning how red my face was going. “I’ve sent a few letters.”  
“Who to?” Ron asked, he seemed overtly interested – maybe he had been bribed by Hermione, or maybe he was just interested because this was the first time I had written to anyone on a personal level since the war… well, I hadn’t had anyone to write to! Not now I was living with Ron and Hermione; and Sirius, Tonks and Lupin and so many others were dead, there wasn’t really anyone else I could write to!  
“Draco.” I answered, then changed the conversation as quickly as I could. “I think I might go and visit Andromeda and Teddy tomorrow, do you two fancy coming with me?” Hermione blinked, startled by the change of subject.  
“Oh! Alright… why are you going to visit Teddy?” She smiled at me.  
“I thought I might give Andromeda a little break, take him out for the day… He’s getting older now, Lupin asked me to look after him, I want to do that.”  
“Yeah, we’ll come. It’ll be nice to see him. It’ll have to be in the morning though… Ron said he’s going to spend some time with George in the afternoon, and I was going to meet Ginny.” Hermione reeled off, nodding towards Ron.  
“That’s cool – we could go round in the morning and spend some time with him there and I’ll take him out in the afternoon.” I suggested.  
“Where would you take him out?” Hermione questioned with an “all-knowing” look on her face.  
“I thought I could take him to feed the ducks… he’s nearly at the age where he’ll understand what’s happening.” I replied quietly; I hadn’t been to see Teddy in nearly two weeks now – I felt a little guilty about that, as I was meant to be his guardian along with his grandmother.  
So tomorrow was planned, and also had nothing to do with Malfoy – and just the same as I did about Teddy – felt guilty that I wasn’t going to see him. We had kissed, surely that meant there was something going on between us? When I was at Hogwarts I had wanted Hermione to write a book explaining girls’ minds and how they think and what to do in dating circumstances, but what I had with Malfoy seemed just as complex!  
I stared morosely at the ceiling of my bedroom for what felt like forever, just staring into the darkness. Then I rolled over and fell out of bed, waking myself up. I noticed that I had forgotten to draw my curtains, and now that I was looking out of the window I saw a grey owl sitting on the window ledge. I climbed up off the floor, pulled the window open and let the bird hop inside. It had a scroll of parchment attached to its leg and it held it out almost exasperatedly for me to unfasten it, then it flew off immediately out of the window again. I had spotted the time on my clock, 4:06 am, it was very early. I pulled open the parchment yawning widely:  
‘Harry, I managed to get a hold of an owl again… please come and visit me today, I want to talk to you about what happened yesterday. In apology and with hope, Draco.’  
I smiled down at the piece of parchment with Draco’s neat italic handwriting on it – and began to think when I could visit him… Ron, Hermione and I were going to visit Teddy and Andromeda in the morning, but I had been planning to take Teddy out in the afternoon on my own, I wondered whether I could take Teddy to visit his big cousin? I lay back down in the ruffled covers of my bed and closed my eyes, still with the note clutched tightly in my hand.   
Teddy, Ron and Hermione… my favourite people in the whole wide world – but now I needed to add Draco to that list… he was rapidly becoming the person I cared most about…


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's POV

Here I was again, sitting staring down at the tray on the table in front of me. It was lunchtime and I had promised that I was going to eat some food, even if it was only a tiny bit! But now the food was here I didn’t want any of it! It all looked revolting…  
I was staring down so intently at the tray that I didn’t notice Harry enter the ward, until he was standing at the end of my bed and the small child he was carrying squealed excitedly.  
“Hi.” He was beaming at me and ruffling the little boy’s blonde hair. “This is Teddy. I’m looking after him for the day and we thought we’d come and visit his big cousin Draco, didn’t we?” Teddy babbled nonsensically and nodded his head, I felt myself grinning at them. Teddy had fastened his hand around Harry’s hair and was tugging harshly at it.  
“I think he’d telling you to get a haircut!” I laughed as Harry screwed up his face and tried to untangle Teddy’s fingers from his hair. Once he had managed to loosen the grip of Teddy’s hand in his hair he unceremoniously dropped Teddy onto the end of my bed. He stared up at me, seemingly transfixed by the sight of me. “So this is Teddy! Hello Teddy!” I said, feeling slightly awkward – children seemed like foreign creatures to me, I never quite knew how to interact with them. Harry had sat down in the armchair next to my bed and was pulling faces at Teddy, who was laughing infectiously. He was obviously a natural with kids, he seemed to know exactly what to do to make him smile and judged exactly the point when Teddy was about to topple over and grabbed him, sitting firmly on his lap. “I’ve never met Teddy before…” I stated, although I was sure he already knew this. “I don’t think I ever met Nymphadora either… or if I did I was really little.” Harry nodded slowly, watching Teddy trying to clap his hands.   
“It’s horrible what happened.” Harry sighed; he was looking down at the contented child with a pained look on his face. “To think that he is going to grow up without Remus and Tonks, without the most caring parents I think you could wish for.”  
“But… but he’s got you, and Andromeda.” I prompted hesitantly. “He’s well cared for I’m sure.”  
“He’s got you too – and your mother and father. You’re his family, that’s important.” Harry’s eyes had locked onto mine; his gaze was so intensely green it almost made me dizzy! At the mention of my parents my whole body tensed up. “What?”  
“I would never introduce a child to my parents. They’d just mess it up as much as they did with…” I stopped myself. “And anyway, I would not take a toddler to visit his uncle in Azkaban, or his aunt locked up.”  
“Locked up? Your mum’s locked up too? I thought the two of you got out of Azkaban cause you saved my life?” Harry sounded incredibly confused; Teddy was leaning back into Harry as though he might fall asleep.  
“My mother’s in here somewhere.” I replied dully, “She’s locked up in some ward, even more mental than I am.”   
Conversation stopper. I knew it was… this was why I didn’t bring it up, ever.  
“Oh… I’m sorry.” He stammered awkwardly, looking uncomfortable.  
“It’s alright.” I heard myself saying, but I knew this was a lie; I had tried not to think about my mother. Teddy had now fallen asleep in Harry’s lap, a smile on his face. He looked really content, blissfully unaware of the outside world and the reality of life. I wished I could go back to being that age – everything would be so much simpler.   
“Is he asleep?” Harry whispered indicating down at Teddy. “I can only see the top of his head so I can’t tell!” I nodded, “Good,” He shifted Teddy ever so slightly so that he’d be more comfortable. “So did you want to talk to me?” For a moment I had to think about what he was talking about, then I remembered the letter I had sent late last night.  
“Oh… yeah, I, uh – I don’t know actually…” I faltered, I looked down towards the food I had been conveniently ignoring since Harry arrived and I remembered the promise I had made to myself; I still had to eat something on the tray. “I guess I…” I screwed up my face I could hear the sensible voice in my head commanding me to get over myself and apologise, but my mouth was struggling with that. “I’m sorry about yesterday and how ungrateful I sounded; and it’s not that I don’t want to get better but I don’t know how.” The words came out very fast in a continuous slur and I was sure that Harry wouldn’t have been able to understand.  
“Yeah, I came to that conclusion myself yesterday…” He nodded, looking grave. “But if you’ll let me then I’d like to help in some way.”  
“I’m… I’m not – I’m not very good at accepting help.” I answered finally.  
“I know,” He shrugged, “And I’m too quick to offer it… Well most of the time anyway.”  
“True attributes of our houses, huh?” I muttered, I was still trying to decide what on my tray I was going to eat.  
“I’m not sure; I always thought that Hufflepuff’s were the helpers.” I snorted involuntarily.   
“The hufflepuff’s were the ones that weren’t good enough to be in any of the other houses.”  
“Hey…” Harry started, raising his eyebrows at me.  
“Slytherin I know… as I said the day I first met you – I think I’d have left if I had been put in Hufflepuff.” I laughed.  
“I could have been in slytherin.” Harry said quietly and then his eyes widened in shock as though he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.  
“What?” I asked.  
“The sorting hat tried to put me in slytherin, but I asked it not to.” He looked at me. “I’ve never even told Ron and Hermione that.”  
“Yet here you are telling me.” I smiled at him, “We slytherin’s must be good at getting people to talk. No disrespect, but you’d have been a dreadful slytherin.”  
“That is not disrespectful, just honest.” He was almost laughing himself, “I didn’t want to be a slytherin.”  
The two of us fell silent, so I went back to deciding what I was going to eat off my tray. Very tentatively I reached out and picked up half of the sandwich that was on my plate. The very thought of it scared me half to death! I took a breath in and put the sandwich up to my mouth and sunk my teeth into the bread. The texture felt so strange, so foreign – I hadn’t eaten bread in what felt like my entire lifetime. It took a few moments for the natural instinct to chew to kick in inside my brain; my mouth had gone so dry that the texture of the bread felt horrible inside my mouth. I was struggling to swallow so I took my cup of tea in my other hand, it was shaking so much that I nearly spilt the liquid inside it. I hated every single second of the food being inside my mouth and having to chew and swallow it, but I had made myself a promise that I was going to eat something and I wasn’t going to go back on that promise. So I forced myself to take another bite, and a third – feeling increasingly nervous. I could hear the voice in the back of my head beginning to scream at me that I was going to get fat because I was eating this; I was trying my best to blot it out.   
I could feel the relief rushing through my body as I swallowed the last bite that I wanted to take from the sandwich, and I looked up. It seemed like I had blocked out everything that had been going on around me, everything in the ward had dissolved into nothingness, no talking or noise had penetrated my concentration; and I hadn’t noticed that Harry was staring at me with his mouth hanging wide open…


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

Had I just seen what I thought I had? Had Draco really just picked up that sandwich from the tray…? Or was I just hallucinating my wishful thoughts? My heart seemed to have increased its beating by at least a hundred beats per second and I was sure that it would wake Teddy up it was going so fast. The silence that had fallen seemed to be ringing loudly around the rest of the ward. I stared at Draco, not quite sure what to say or how to react. Draco had stated quite plainly that he didn’t want to eat and he didn’t intend to.  
“Can you stop staring at me like that?” Draco snapped, but he sounded suddenly close to tears.  
“Sorry.” I muttered, looking down at Teddy again.  
“I can’t believe I just did that…” Draco seemed to be hyperventilating and he still wouldn’t look up at me. “I just ate a sandwich, didn’t I?”  
“Yeah, you did.” I replied, trying to make my voice as light as possible, even though I knew this was a massive deal for him. “Are you okay?”  
“Healer Kiely!” Draco shouted very suddenly, I jumped thinking Teddy might wake up, but he was sleeping very soundly. Almost instantly Healer Kiely came down the ward, he stopped abruptly at Draco’s bedside and I saw his eyes fall upon the plate on the tray with the missing sandwich. “Can you take away this tray please? It’s making me feel sick.” Draco’s eyes were closed and the healer picked up the tray without further question. But as he walked away he shot me an inquisitive look and I knew he was just as shocked as I felt this moment.  
As carefully as I could I scooped up Teddy in my arms and placed him on the other empty armchair beside the bed, he was so deeply asleep that he didn’t even stir when I put him down. Draco still had his eyes clamped shut; he appeared to be too scared to open them. I perched on the edge of his bed very cautiously and put my arm around his back. He was sitting very stiffly and awkwardly, and didn’t move at all when my hand touched the cold skin of his elbow.   
“Draco? Are you alright?” He didn’t move, or speak, or react in any way at all. My inside squirmed uncomfortably; what should I do? What should I say? Should I say anything at all? Or should I just wait for him to talk first? Panic, panic, panic, panic, PANIC!! Why did I always get myself into these situations where I didn’t have a clue what to do! Draco’s head suddenly twitched and he rested it in the hollow of my shoulder.  
“I don’t want to talk about food or anything along those lines. I want to talk about something completely random, please.” Draco said, “Tell me about the weather or just anything.”  
“Uuuh…” My mind instantly went completely blank, “Well, I told Ron that I liked you yesterday.” Draco’s eyes snapped open very quickly.  
“How did that go?” He asked, “I guessed he didn’t like it?”  
“Not exactly.” I answered, “We kind of decided not to talk about it… He wasn’t too keen on the idea of me with a guy. He thought I’d been screwing Ginny around – I think that’s what his main concern was.”  
“Hmm…” Draco nodded.   
“You said in one of your letters that you’re gay…” I started; I was approaching the question that I was most interested in. “How did you know that? Like… how? When did you first know?”  
“Good god, you ask deep questions.” Draco sighed, “I’ve always known. I think the first time I really knew was when I was five and my father tried to introduce me to a girl…”  
“Your dad tried to introduce you to a girl when you were five?!” I shook my head, utterly bewildered – I had known that Lucius Malfoy was very domineering, but I didn’t realise he was that controlling!  
“Well, the pureblood families are all interconnected. You betroth off your offspring very young so you can have a strong link with that other pureblood family.” Draco explained, “That’s how my parents are married. The Black and Malfoy families have been closely connected for generations, my parents getting married just strengthened that link. So my father was trying to do the same with me. But once this girl had gone and my other tried to explain who this girl was and why I had been introduced to her.” Draco’s posture was very tense and uncomfortable, I got the impression that he hadn’t ever told anyone this before. It was too much like bearing his soul – too personal. “I had asked my mother why it had to be a girl, why couldn’t get betrothed to a boy like me – I think I told her that I’d like that better… She could have just put that down to me being five and not understanding what getting married and everything else like that meant.” Draco’s cheeks had developed a pink tinge. “But she didn’t. I’m kind of glad she didn’t, it made it easier to tell her when I was older, but it didn’t make anything easier for my father.”  
“What did he do?” I asked, knowing Draco’s father he would have gone mad.  
“Tssk, you know what sort of man my father is.” He murmured, “Let’s not go into that.”  
“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say, how else to carry on the conversation further.  
“I told Professor Snape first.” Draco told me, sensing the awkwardness of the conversation; then suddenly he let out a snort of laughter. “Actually no… I told a guy two years older than us at Hogwarts first – and Snape caught us kissing in the dungeons.” I felt myself going red, I didn’t know if I wanted to hear this, but Draco didn’t seem abashed. “He went mad at me at first, kept telling me what my parents would do if they found out… Like I didn’t already know. But eventually he gave up berating me and in his own way, kind of supported me.”  
“Yeah, I can imagine him doing that.” I nodded mutely. I could imagine Severus supporting anyone in love; no matter who they were, or who they were in love with.  
“I heard you were campaigning to get Severus’ painting put into the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts.” Draco sounded inquisitively. “I never thought it’d be you doing that, I was sure you’d hate everything about him.”  
“Well, once I found out what he was really like I changed my mind about him. I can’t erase that he hated my dad or that he hated me – but I know he had his reasons for it.” I answered, I really had put my bad feelings in regards to Snape to sleep now, he died trying to save everyone and bring down Voldemort. Draco’s face had returned to its usual pale colour, he didn’t look as in distress as he had a couple of minutes ago.  
“I’ve never been in a proper relationship before.” Draco admitted very abruptly, he looked incredibly embarrassed. “I’ve been with guys before, but not because one actually liked me…”  
Today was turning out to be very peculiar – for one, I hadn’t expected Draco to eat anything, that had been enough of a shock, but for Draco to admit that he’d never been in a relationship with someone who liked him… Surely he was drugged up or something! He was a Malfoy; and like he had said, Malfoy’s were not in the habit of being open emotionally.  
“Are you sure you’re alright Draco?” I asked.  
“Yeah, I’m just doing what I’ve been told to do.” He answered; I raised my eyebrows in question. “Opening up, or trying to at least.” He was attempting to smile, but not doing very well, it just looked like his familiar sneer.  
“Oh… right, well…” I felt more awkward by the second, “I’m glad you decided to open up to me.”   
“Yeah – at least you don’t tell me to shut up the moment I open my mouth.” Draco said, so quietly I don’t think he knew I could hear him.  
I didn’t think, I just acted: I put my right hand up to Draco’s face and tilted it so that I was looking right into his face. His features were so beautifully defined, gleaming liquid mercury eyes, high cheek bones, perfect straight nose and pale pink lips that were exactly the right shade to contrast his milk white complexion and were so inviting.  
And we were kissing softly. So softly that I didn’t realise until about thirty seconds after we started. It felt like sublime perfection – only Draco and I existed; we were the only two in the whole wide silent world. My left hand was still leaning on the bed, but my right was touching Draco’s cold, smooth skin on his face until Draco intercepted it with his own hand and held onto it tightly.  
A small delightful sounding squeal re-awakened me from the haze I had been in while kissing Draco. Teddy had woken up and was watching Draco and I rather intently, a look of fascination on his young face. I could feel myself going very red and Draco’s face was going slightly rosy too.  
“Maybe next time we should make sure he’s definitely asleep?” Draco suggested nervously.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

I was still in a very odd mood when I dropped Teddy off home with Andromeda, spending ten minutes to organise my next visit when I could take him out for the day. Teddy seemed incredibly excited to see his grandmother again and I could see the excitement in her eyes too. It was obvious that she was delighted to be looking after Teddy; he was all she had left of her family. Right after the war, when Andromeda found out that her husband, daughter and son-in-law had all been killed, she had gone to pieces – like so many other families had done too – but little Teddy was beginning to fill the gap that the others had left. Teddy had reminded me so much of myself that I had felt it unfair, to lose his parents so young; but I knew there were people to look after and care for him, he would never be alone. I bade farewell to Andromeda, and hugged Teddy goodbye before leaving and apparating to a spot about a five minute walk from Grimmauld Place. It had taken all of my will power not to return to St. Mungos’ straight away. It felt like there had been a breakthrough with him today on so many levels. I was still reeling at him eating that sandwich – alright it hadn’t been a lot, but the look that had been on the healer’s face when he had seen there was food missing was enough to tell me that it was a first. Draco had mentioned his mother, he had said that she was in St. Mungos’ too, even more mental than he was, that was how he had described her. That had to be difficult – father in prison and mother in hospital and, by the sounds of it, not too many friends desperate to visit. I was too busy revelling in my thoughts to realise that I had been standing in front of the house for quite a while. My hand was on the handle of the front door and I was about to turn it when I changed my mind abruptly. Running down the steps I started heading left, away from the main city and towards the little street of shops that ran parallel behind our row of houses. With any luck that little deli might still be open…  
Equipped with my plastic bag in hand I stepped through the fake window into the reception area which sounded surprisingly quiet. An uneasy chill crept through me as I climbed up the stairs towards the ward that Draco resided in. But when I got there Healer Kiely wasn’t on duty, instead there was a younger man with long chesnut brown hair and a smile plastered across his tanned face.  
“Hi.” He said, “Are you looking for someone?”  
“Yeah, I’m looking for Draco. Is everything alright? He’s not in his bed.” I asked, fingering the handle of my plastic bag nervously. The healer’s eye flicked up to my forehead and noted the scar near my hairline.  
“Oh! So you’re the Harry that’s been visiting Draco!” He exclaimed, “Harry Potter!”  
“Keep it down will you! I don’t need you letting the whole hospital know I’m here.” I told him quietly. “Yes, and I would like to see him now.”  
“I was just going to collect him from upstairs actually; he’s been visiting his mum.” The healer answered, “Do you want to come with me?”  
“Uuh… is that allowed?” I asked cautiously.  
“Yeah, of course it is.” He laughed, “I normally go with another person, just in case something happens. He might be a very thin guy, but he’s not small.” I smiled weakly and placed my plastic bag down. I followed the healer out of the ward and along the sparkling white corridor.  
“We’ve got some stairs to climb.” The healer seemed to be rambling, “I didn’t realise when Healer Kiely said that Draco had a friend that was visiting him that it was you.”   
“Well yeah… I kind of ran into him by accident.” I didn’t really want to talk to this guy about it. We climbed what felt like twenty sets of stairs, before coming to a very secure looking ward, very similar to the permanent spell damage ward. The healer opened the door with a casual wave of his wand.  
“Mrs. Malfoy’s room is third on the left, I’m just going to speak to the healer here and find out she’s doing.” The healer turned to knock on what looked like the staff room door, my stomach jumped into my throat, he was just leaving me to go and find Draco on my own. The whole ward was eerily quiet; it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I hadn’t caught the name of the ward, but by the way Draco had described it, it seemed like this was a long time residency ward but for those without having been affected by magic. I walked slowly, what had the healer said: third door on the left. Just before the third door there was a large panelled window with a set of open blinds – I stopped before I came to it and peered very carefully inside. I could see a huddled figure sat on the bed, knees drawn up to their chest and unmoving, staring in front of them. I could see the back of Draco’s head rising above the chair that he was sat upon. From the tiny crack in the door I could hear a trickle of noise, Draco’s voice as he talked to his mother;  
“I thought this might be something you’d want to talk about mum.” Draco’s voice floated out, sounding rather sulky, but perhaps it was just covering up how upset he was really feeling. “Of all things I thought that your son wanting to start a relationship with someone would make you want to talk.” He was pleading now, “Mum, you know how we chatted about relationships, about who I liked and all that stuff that we said we’d never tell father… You must’ve listened to me whine on about Zabini treating me like a play thing and Warrington tease and get on at me, but at least you replied then, even though I probably ignored everything you said to me then. And now I actually do want you to reply and tell me what to do cause I don’t know and you won’t even open your mouth to say a single word.” He sighed loudly enough for me, standing outside the door, to hear him. “Mum, I really like Harry…” My heart jumped from my throat right to the back of my mouth. “I don’t understand what I’m meant to do, I do like him, but I always end up stuffing this sort of thing up… I don’t do people very well. I’ll screw up and end up on my own again, won’t I? I sometimes think that’s what father wanted to happen to me, become so socially inept that I’d never be in a relationship, unless it was one planned and arranged by him.” I didn’t know whether to turn around and go back to Draco’s ward so there was no chance he would realise I had heard him. Very quietly I turned around and went back down to where I had left the healer and stood, almost wishing that I hadn’t heard what Draco had been saying. There was a hell of a lot more going on behind Draco’s calm exterior.   
“Oh, hello.” The healer made me jump as I hadn’t heard him exit from the room where I had left him. “Did you find Draco?”  
“Uh, no… I couldn’t remember what room you had told me.” I lied, shifting from one foot to the other.  
“Oh alright, come with me then, it’s time for Draco to go back down to his own ward.” The healer said and moved down towards where I had been standing listening to Draco talk. I wiped my hands on my jeans as they were covered in cold sweat. Good lord, what was I supposed to say to him now I had heard that? Now that I knew he really did like me I knew I had to actually do this properly, and be honest. The healer knocked on the door of Draco’s mother’s room;  
“Draco… it’s time to go back now. You’ve got a visitor as well.” The healer informed him, Draco didn’t even move in response. “Come on Draco.” Finally Draco pushed himself out of the chair and turned to look at us, he stood frozen for a few moments.  
“Hey,” I said awkwardly, waiting for Draco to move. For a split second it looked like he was going to faint, then he moved towards us and in silence the three of us moved away down to the door of that ward. Nearly halfway down that corridor I bumped accidentally into Draco’s arm and then Draco’s cold fingers touched mine, only for a fleeting second at first; then they connected closer with my warm hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. In the first few seconds I didn’t know what to do – my head was still reeling with everything I’d overheard, but his hand felt just right in my own; like it was a perfect fit and I didn’t want to let go.  
I sat down next to Draco on the bed in his ward, still with his hand interlinked with mine.  
“Do you go and visit your mum often?” I asked eventually, once figuring how to break the silence without sounding insensitive.  
“Not very often.” He answered, “I’m not allowed to go and see her that much.” His voice sounded thick so I didn’t want to press the issue. Draco suddenly shifted slightly towards me and rested his head on my shoulder. “I don’t have much to do with my family, it’s too complex.” He sounded very tired as he rested against me.   
“I brought you a present.” I said quietly, “But I’m not sure that you’ll like it…” I scooped the plastic bag from the floor and placed it on Draco’s lap. He took his hand away from mine and opened the plastic bag; a small grin broke over his face.  
“You got me oatcakes and pate!” He was almost laughing. “I can’t believe you did that for me…”  
“Well, it didn’t really take that much effort – and you did say that it was your favourite food…” I blushed.  
“Do you want some?” Draco asked abruptly.  
“What… now?” I said surprised, Draco shrugged.  
“I’m sure the healer would allow it.” He replied, “I was going to go out for a cigarette actually, I might do that before we eat.” I didn’t say anything. Draco turned round on the bed and waved quite frantically at the healer. “Hey, can I go out for a fag?”   
“Of course Draco.” The healer agreed, not even batting an eyelid.  
“Oh, and when I come back in, can we have some of this?” Draco handed the plastic bag to the healer, who peered inside and then stared at Draco. “For god sake, do none of you people talk to one another in here? I have eaten something of my meals today! Now I would like something to eat when I come back in, so don’t look at me as though I’ve gone mental.” Draco snapped at the man, re-displaying some of the Draco character that I had been used to at school. The healer stayed in the same place until Draco gave him such a fierce glare that he turned very quickly and marched down the ward.  
Outside in the muggle high street the darkness had completely crept in and there wasn’t any other person in view. Draco sat on the bench and stretched out his legs in front of him, and pulling a packet of cigarettes from out of a pocket.  
“D’you want one?” He offered me, I shook my head. “Suit yourself…” I sat down next to him as he lit his cigarette. I looked sideways at Draco, a cold chill sweeping over me again. Did I feel for Draco as much as he had told his mum he felt for me?  
A month ago I hated Draco… well no, I didn’t hate him as strongly as I had during school, but he definitely wasn’t my favourite person. Draco wouldn’t have been talking to his mum like that if he wasn’t actually serious. But did I like him that much? Still glancing out of the corner of my eyes I flicked my gaze up and Draco, taking every inch of him in and my stomach clenched tightly. I realised I was smiling, and was glad that it was getting darker, cause I was worried that I might have some ridiculous expression on my face. I did like Draco – and I liked him a lot; why else would I have been to visit him virtually every day since I had found out he was in St. Mungos’? And why could I not stop thinking about him when I wasn’t near him…? And I didn’t really care what other people thought, I wanted to look after him and make everything okay. Yeah, I did like him enough.  
“Draco.” I started very tentatively as he took another pull on his cigarette. “When I came to visit you tonight I kind of heard you talking to your mum.”   
Long silence.  
“What did you hear?” He seemed calm.  
“Just stuff…” I replied vaguely. “But I don’t think you’d screw up every relationship. I think if you wanted it to work, it would. It might take some effort, but if you were willing to do that then I don’t see why it wouldn’t work…” The silence filled the space between us as I tried to think how to say that I really did like him too… Draco’s hand that wasn’t holding the cigarette found its way to my knee, and he rested it there gently, making the skin all over my body erupt into goose bumps.  
“But how do I know whether it’s worth making the effort? How do I know that I won’t just fuck it all up as usual?” Draco had stood up exceedingly quickly, taking his hand off my knee.  
“I don’t know that Draco. I think tis one of those things that you just have to take the risk and hope it works out…” I answered unsurely.  
“But… but, how am I supposed to know?” He didn’t sound so calm now, I got up off the bench to stand next to Draco, his head was bowed and he was staring at the ground.  
“I can’t tell you Draco.” I sighed.  
“Do you think…” He stopped, then re-started. “Do you think if I worked at it then we would work?” My heart did another back flip in my chest.  
“I think if we both worked at it then it might.” My throat had gone quite dry and my voice was higher than usual. Draco was looking down at me, I felt very small, he was only a couple of inches taller than me, but it felt like a considerable difference. I, very carefully, put my arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him into a hug. He smelt like smoke, cleaning detergent and another kind of musky smell which was unique to Draco, it was incredibly reassuring for some reason. Our lips met, he was bending down and holding himself very closely to me, almost protectively. His hands were roaming all over my body until he got to my hair. I wanted this more than I wanted anything else at this moment… just Draco. I didn’t care if anyone wandered past us while we were kissing passionately.  
When we pulled apart Draco held onto me and said very seriously;  
“I want to try and make it work between us Harry. If you want to I mean… but I ‘ve never thought I’d feel strongly for anyone, I didn’t think I could love at all…”  
“I want to try it too.” I nodded, kissing him again.  
It seemed like everything was going to work out between Draco and I…


End file.
